Fix You
by chocaholic123
Summary: Two lives. Different worlds. The ripples from this twelve year collision course will last forever. ExB, AH, Rated M for a reason.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**May 12th 2012**

_Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones. And I will try, to fix you. _

He had filled out nicely since she had last seen him, over a year ago. The thin cotton of his shirt clung to his biceps, skimming his taut abdomen as it tucked into his dress pants. His hips were still lean, and tight, and she closed her eyes as she tried not to remember how they had felt between her thighs, as he had moved inside her, breathing softly in her ear, as she had moaned and whimpered and—

She shook her head. She wasn't standing in his large, oak-paneled office just to take a trip down memory lane, as pleasant as that might be. She had flown here, over three thousand miles, to tell him what he deserved to know.

Inappropriate laughter bubbled up in her throat as she considered the ridiculous melodrama of the situation. Her seventeen year old self would be rolling her eyes, wondering how this twenty-nine year old woman had managed to turn a seemingly promising life into a soap opera.

She glanced up at his face, looking at his lips, which had turned down into a deep scowl. His eyes had narrowed beneath his bronze brows, and his straight, patrician, nose was slightly crinkled in response to her presence.

The contempt he felt towards her was radiating off of him.

Bella tried to keep her breathing steady, reminding herself that although she was in _his_ office, on the penthouse floor of _his_ building, this was _her_ show.

She was in control.

Because truth be told, if he viewed her with contempt now, God only knew how he would feel once he'd heard what she had to say. He had been a large part of her life for so long—as a friend, a confidante, even a lover—but never before did he have the power to break her.

"As nice as it is to see you," he drawled, the tone of his voice making it patently clear that her presence in his office was anything but nice, "I have a meeting in five minutes. Exactly what is it that you want?"

He had no idea, but this was it. Time to open her mouth and tell him what he needed to hear. Her arms suddenly felt tingly, her fingers moving as if they could no longer remain still; a physical manifestation of her nervousness. The laughter in her throat had been replaced by something more unsettling, as she tried to take in a deep breath and form the words that she needed to say.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. She watched his gaze move down to her mouth, staring at it with dark eyes, as her teeth drew in her bottom lip.

"Edward." Her voice was surprisingly strong. She could do this. She could tell him the truth, and then get the hell out of here.

Back on a plane.

Back home.

Back to _him_.

"Edward, we had a baby."

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**A/N -Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think.**

**Song by Coldplay, characters by Stephenie Meyer. Beta'd by Sunflowerfran, Pre-read by SparrowNotes24 and Cutestkidsmom. I flove them all.**


	2. Chapter 1

******A/N - Thank you so much to my lovely beta, Sunflowerfran and fabulous pre-readers, Cutestkidsmom and SparrowNotes24.**

****** And so many hugs to TheOnlyKyla, Cutestkidsmom and SparrowNotes24, and all of you who have recommended, followed or pimped this story - you rock.  
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******Okay - take note of the date everybody. Let's go back to the 90s...  
**

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**Chapter 1**

**Friday 31st December 1999**

Her suitcase really should have appeared by now. As the rubber belt snaked past, her eyes were sweeping across it like a hawk searching out its prey. The carousel seemed to be carrying baggage of every color and size, except her own. Maybe her battered brown leather case was embarrassed to show its face among the smarter Louis Vuittons, Henks and Samsonites.

Bella knew the feeling.

She was biting her nails again. They were already torn down to the quick, and the black polish was peeling off in chunks. A small bead of blood had formed at the edge of her thumbnail, as she began to chew at the cuticle, worrying it with her teeth. Her stepmother always hated it when she made her skin bleed. Maybe that was why Bella continued to do it.

Irina was the second wife of Bella's father, Charles Swan. A perfectly formed Manhattan trophy wife, she kept regular appointments with her hairdresser, manicurist, and beautician. It seemed to Bella, that Irina was so over-polished that she had turned brittle and fragile, as if one gust of wind would snap her in half. And she hated her stepdaughter with a passion.

Finally spotting her case moving towards her, Bella pushed past the harassed lady in front. In one arm the woman held a toddler; the other was rhythmically moving a stroller back and forth, as she tried to rock a tiny baby to sleep. Judging from the way the infant was wailing, it really wasn't having the desired effect.

"Excuse me," Bella muttered, and she leaned forward, far enough to grab the handle of her case, pulling her body back as she swung it onto the gray tiled floor. It was heavy, packed full of winter ski wear and warm clothing. She'd barely had time to wear any of it.

She wasn't even supposed to be traveling today; she should still be at her father's chalet in Val D'Isere. She had only joined him there, along with his wife and their eleven-year-old twin daughters, a couple of days before. Bella had arrived at lunchtime, only to find the chalet deserted, apart from the maid who was making a vain attempt to tidy her sisters' rooms. The rest of the Swan family had left earlier for a day of skiing on the piste. It wasn't the gushing reception that she would have welcomed.

It never was.

Bella had waited in the chalet for four lonely hours before the family had returned, all bright faced and laughing. The smile hadn't stayed on her father's face for long, however, when he finally looked at her, his eyes sweeping her up and down as he absorbed her appearance.

"Have you done something different with your hair?" His forehead had wrinkled in a disapproving frown.

Bella had tried to swallow a grin in response to his understatement. Since she had seen him last, she had transformed herself into a Goth, complete with reddish-black colored hair, and striking make-up. She was all pale skin and dark, dark, kohl; her mouth a shocking gash of deep red. Her clothing was black and heavy; a long velvet flowing skirt, and a tight black laced up corset. It was designed to shock.

It had been almost enough to give Charles a heart attack.

She only saw her father once a year, and always at Christmastime. He didn't like her visiting him and his second family at their home in Manhattan; instead he preferred to meet with her on neutral territory; at his chalet in France. From the outside, it might seem that this was a kind gesture; a way of sparing Bella a long, tiring journey. But he and Irina loved to spend time with their rich, American friends, as well as mingle with the European jet set, high up in the French Alps.

And every December, Bella dreaded the day she had to join them, leaving her comfortable English life behind. At least this year, she had managed to spend Christmas Day with her mom, before leaving on the 26th December.

The memory of her father's red face, as he stared at her with disgust and derision in his eyes, lingered in Bella's mind. Charles had been almost apoplectic at her new style, and Irina had demanded that Bella should remain in the confines of the chalet at all times.

She was to be their dirty little secret for the week.

Two days of confinement were all Bella had managed to endure. At first, she wasn't bothered that she couldn't join her family on the slopes. When skiing, she was mediocre at best; the highlight of her day was always watching the snowboarders execute their tricks as she hung around at the snow park.

But after two days of reading, and stuffing her face with chocolate, she was supremely bored.

Then she had found out that Charles, Irina, and her sisters were planning to spend New Year's Eve at a friend's Chateau about fifty miles away from their chalet. And without Bella.

The thought of staying in the lonely chalet with only the maid for company, on the eve of the new millennium, had been enough to make the tears sting at her eyes. There had followed an almighty row, which resulted in Bella being banned from the Chalet, and placed on the next flight to London. It gave her a small sense of satisfaction to know that her last-minute ticket home cost Charles more than four flights to America.

As soon as she was dropped off at the airport at Geneva, it was as though the whole family breathed a sigh of relief.

And she swore to herself, now that she was almost eighteen, that she would never again subject herself to the torture of another Alpine Holiday. If Charles Swan wanted to spend time with his eldest daughter—and in Bella's mind this was not necessarily a given—then he would have to travel to London to see her. Preferably minus the second wife and kids.

Heathrow Airport was teeming with passengers. Nobody stared at Bella's outfit as she walked through the customs tunnel and out to the arrivals zone, she didn't stand out enough among such a diverse crowd. That was one of the advantages of living in London; she could wear what she liked; express her own individuality, and nobody gave a damn.

There was no chauffeur awaiting her arrival, no car to transport her home. This was England, this was her real life, and she'd take the tube like everybody else. She was finally, thankfully, home.

Bella and her mom, Renee, were London-poor. In any other part of England they could have lived comfortably, in a decent sized house, with a large garden and a double garage. As it was, Renee's income from her party planning business afforded them a tiny, two bedroom flat near Putney.

From the moment she had run away from her empty marriage to Charles Swan, and from the stifling confines of Manhattan society, and back home to London, Renee had declined to take any money from her ex. She didn't mind him buying things for Bella, whenever he had time to remember that he actually had a daughter living in England. But she refused to take one single dime for herself

Bella truly adored her mom.

The Tube train was packed full of passengers; they were stuffed into the carriage like sardines in cans. Bella maneuvered her case until it was wedged in between her legs, and prayed that nobody was going to use the opportunity to touch her up this time. The last time that happened, it had resulted in a rather nasty incident with a car key, a cut ear and a police statement. Luckily, this time, her journey went off without a hitch.

When she arrived back at the flat at 4:00 PM, it was already dark outside. The roads were bathed with the soft orange glow of the street lamps. Their avenue was lined with Victorian, terraced houses, red bricked and ornate, with peeling stucco and decaying walls. Bella loved the genteel facade of the old terraces, with their painted white porticos and their black and white tiled paths. They contrasted starkly with the noise and modernity of London life.

She fished in her bag for her keys, knowing that Renee had been out all day working at the Cullen's, organizing their annual party. New Year's Eve was always her busiest night of the year. The fact that it was the eve of a new millennium just took things to a higher level.

Bella had only been in the flat for a couple of minutes, before the phone started to ring. A glance at the display told her that there were already three voice-mail messages. Somebody was obviously in a hurry to speak with either her, or Renee. She sincerely hoped it wasn't Charles.

"Hello?" She picked up the cream, plastic receiver and spoke into the mouthpiece. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Whiskers, her cat, jump up onto the kitchen work top and slink his fat, tabby body towards her.

At least someone was pleased to see her.

"Bella? Thank God you're home. Are you okay? Was the flight good?" Renee hardly took a second to breathe, let alone allow Bella to respond to what seemed like rhetorical questions. "Honey, I've had three girls go down with that damned winter vomiting bug. I need you to put on a uniform and come over and help me. This party is going to be a bloody disaster." She lowered her voice into a whisper for the last sentence, leading Bella to wonder who else was in the room with her.

"Okay, I'll come over. Just give me the address." Bella wedged the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she reached out for the pad and pen she always kept by the phone.

"It's number five Cheyne Walk. In Chelsea. Get a cab and I'll pay you back. Oh and Bella..." Renee's voice dropped down an octave.

"Can you tone down the makeup?" Bella chanted, knowing exactly what her mom was going to say.

A shower, nail polish removal, and a makeup tone-down later, Bella had managed to find an empty black cab, and was heading towards Chelsea. She was wearing the typical waitress uniform; her plain white blouse was tucked neatly into her short black skirt. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and the makeup on her face was soft and barely there. Thank God she didn't know anybody in Chelsea. She was looking way too normal for her own good.

Rapping the large, brass knocker on the smartly painted, black door a couple of times, she put her ear to the wood to listen for footsteps. A butler of some sort pulled the door open. Her inferiority complex was already running at full throttle; the Cullens were obviously rich enough to employ full time staff.

As she walked into the entrance hall, Bella found her breath taken away by the splendor. It was open to all three levels of the house, with a marble staircase curving up the right hand side. Right in the middle of the ornately tiled floor was the biggest Christmas tree she had ever seen. It was covered from trunk to tip with tasteful decorations. There was no silver tinsel, or pink sparkly Christmas lights to be seen. Just red and gold ornaments, with understated twinkling white lights strung all around the tree. The spruce had to be at least twenty foot tall.

"See something you like?" Bella's hackles rose at the sound of the smooth American drawl, coming from somewhere behind her. She whipped her head around to see a young man standing at the bottom of the marble staircase. He was wearing loose, dark-washed jeans, hanging almost obscenely off his lean hips. His t-shirt was tight and black, with 'Columbia' emblazoned in blue writing across the front.

And his face; Lord his face. It was all jaw and plump lips, complimented by a straight nose and deep green eyes. He looked like every clean cut, Manhattan boy she had ever had the misfortune to come into contact with.

Irina would have loved him.

Bella took in a short breath, and looked Prep Boy straight in the eye. "Not really. I was just wondering if Charlie Brown was missing his Christmas Tree."

She spun around and flounced towards the kitchen, barely hearing his bark of laughter as she walked away from him. She bit back the smile that was threatening to creep across her lips.

It looked like tonight had just got interesting.

Renee was standing in the middle of the large, square kitchen, her cell phone in one hand, a battery powered walkie-talkie in the other. She barked out orders into both mouthpieces without blinking an eyelid, her face slightly red and glistening with perspiration. Bella watched her mother as she set the cell phone down and started to shout at the chef and his assistants, their backs stiffening as they realized that they were on the receiving end of one of Renee's infamous tirades. Bella was used to them, she had long ago learned that Renee's bark was infinitely worse than her bite.

The Cullen's kitchen wasn't your usual well-heeled, oak and granite affair. Instead it was all stainless steel, with professional grade ovens. It was the sort of kitchen any chef would kill for. It was difficult to picture anybody using the ten burner hob just to boil an egg.

"Bella, sweetheart, it's so good to see you." Renee ran around the central island, and threw her arms around her prodigal daughter. Bella relaxed into her mother's embrace, screwing her eyes tightly shut as she felt the misery and stress of the past few days seeping out of her.

She realized just how much she had missed her mom.

"It's good to see you too," she replied, her words muffled by Renee's flamboyantly patterned scarf.

"I've a good mind to call your father and tell him what I think of him. I can't believe he treated you like that, the stuck up, holier than thou bast—"

"Mom, it's fine." Bella gave her mother a rueful smile as she interrupted her. "I think my tirade was probably enough for the both of us. I just want to forget about it now." She gave her mother a final squeeze and then pulled away.

"Renee, darling, is there anything you need help with?" A gentle voice came from the kitchen door. Bella turned around to see a petite woman, face framed with soft caramel curls, smiling at the two of them.

"I think we have it all under control." Renee replied. Bella could see her Mom's fingers crossed behind her back as she spoke. "Esme Cullen, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Isabella Swan."

Esme walked forward, her arms open as she greeted Bella, pulling her in for an air kiss. "Isabella, how wonderful to meet you. I've heard so much about you from Renee. And, of course, I know your father and his wife."

Bella grimaced at the mention of Charles and Irina, and then quickly rearranged her features in an effort to avoid insulting Esme.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too." Bella smiled as she looked down at Esme. She was at least half a head smaller than Bella, and that was in heels.

"What a beautiful accent you have. And I love your hair, the color is so interesting."

Usually, when someone said that something about Bella was 'interesting', it turned out to be a slightly veiled insult. Irina seemed to use the word a lot, whenever her stepdaughter was around. But the kind tone of Esme's voice led Bella to believe that she genuinely liked her the way she looked.

"Thank you." Bella didn't know what else to say. She doubted that Esme Cullen was really that interested in the Gothic subculture, so refrained from explaining the provenance of her dyed black locks.

"I must introduce you to my family later. My husband, Carlisle, would find you fascinating. I think he's a closet Marilyn Manson fan. And Alice and Edward would just love you." Esme was gushing now, causing Bella to step back slightly from her American host. She wasn't used to being treated with such friendliness by the Manhattan elite. Even ones who were living in London.

"Edward and Alice?" Bella questioned, trying to find an appropriate response.

"Alice is my daughter. She's ten years old. She's at school at St Nicholas."

Bella nodded. It figured; St Nicholas's was an expensive London prep school. She suspected that Alice Cullen would turn out to be as annoyingly spoiled as Bella's own half sisters.

"And Edward is Carlisle's son from his first marriage. He's in his third year at Columbia. It's been a pleasure having him stay with us over Christmas. I shall be sorry to see him return to New York." Esme barely took a breath before continuing. "My own boy, Emmett, is somewhere in the Andes trying to 'find himself'" She used her fingers to put imaginary quotation marks around her last two words.

"How utterly careless of him to lose himself somewhere so remote." Bella quipped, causing Esme to giggle in response.

"So like your Mom." Esme cupped her hands around Bella's cheeks in a surprisingly intimate move, before drawing back. "Make sure you come and talk to me tonight. It will make such a refreshing change from all those stuffed shirts."

"I'll bring you a sausage roll." Bella winked at Esme, and then turned back to her own mother to ask where she was needed.

Between the friendly mother, the hot, preppy son, and the Marilyn Manson loving father, Bella imagined that she might come to rather like this family.

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**********Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear your opinions.**  



	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Friday 31st December 1999**

Edward accepted another glass of champagne from a waiter, as he weaved his way through the party crowd. It was cold to the touch; the glass flute misted over with condensation, and the ice cold beads of water ran down his fingers where he held iit. Taking a sip, he quickly scanned the room for someone—anyone—interesting to talk to.

He was wearing his tux, fitted silk dress shirt, and black tie. The suit fitted him like a glove, the jacket clinging smoothly to his wide shoulders, the trousers perfectly sized for his narrow waist. He had the physique of a man who played a lot of sports.

Since he'd come to London, he'd been able to act like a 20 year old for the first time in a long while. He had worn jeans, t-shirts and hooded sweaters without so much as an eyebrow being raised. He had visited pubs, consumed pints of beer, and flirted with pretty girls. Most of who his mother would have deemed far below his social station.

And much to their amusement, he'd also spent hours playing on the PlayStation that Carlisle and Esme had bought him for Christmas.

Unfortunately, this sort of party was reminding him a little too much of home, of his other family and their society friends.

Seeing his father and Esme standing in the corner of the drawing room, he pushed his way through the throng of people to get to them. As he walked, he heard snippets of conversation;

"Of course John is on-call for when the millennium bug strikes..."

"I'm so excited about the river of fire. Bob Geldof is like a modern day Gandalf..."

"The Millennium Dome is just a huge white elephant if you ask me. I mean, what the hell are they going to do with a large circus tent when the year is over?"

He didn't understand any of this talk. Sometimes he found it hard to even understand the accent, let alone exactly what it was these English people were trying to say. The US and UK were two countries divided by a common language.

"Edward!" Esme spotted him when he was about a yard away. Edward walked forward and kissed his stepmother on the cheek; she smelled of lavender and roses. "You always look so handsome in a tux. And so much older."

"And you look spectacular as always, Esme," he replied.

Esme smoothed down her dove grey cocktail dress and gave him a huge grin.

"You charmer. You're getting more and more like your father every day."

In the right hand side of his peripheral vision, he could see somebody approaching their little group. Whoever it was, they were dressed in black and white.

"Can I offer you a Cumberland chipolata, blanketed in choux pastry, with a honey and mustard dip?" she asked, as she approached their group.

He recognized her. It was the girl he had seen standing in the hall earlier, the one with dark, dark hair and frighteningly pale skin.

"It looks like a sausage roll to me."Esme was smiling at the girl. They seemed way too familiar with each other for a waitress and her employer. Edward wondered if they knew each other outside of the party.

"Well, as Shakespeare said, or rather Juliet did, 'a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.'" The waitress grinned cheekily at Esme. "And a sausage wrapped in pastry by any other name would still taste like a sausage roll."

"In that case, I'll have one." Esme took an appetizer from the proffered silver tray, and bit into the pastry. After chewing and swallowing the morsel, she looked up, "I don't care what it's called, it tastes great."

Her words made the corners of Edward's lips curl up. His own mother, Elizabeth, would rather pull her fingernails out one by one than be seen eating at parties. And as the wife of William Black, she had to throw a lot of them.

"I'm being so rude. Isabella Swan, please let me introduce you to my husband, Carlisle Cullen, and my stepson, Edward Cullen."

He turned to shake her hand, and caught her staring right at him. His stomach clenched at the shock of meeting her dark brown eyes.

"I've heard so much about you, Isabella." His father spoke first. "Esme seems to think that I should make you a mixtape."

Edward's eyebrows drew together in confusion. How the hell did they know this girl? She certainly didn't look like the sort of girl that hung around at parties like these. She was like a bundle of unkempt energy, seemingly without a vocal filter. A Shakespeare-quoting waitress. An enigma.

"Maybe I'll make _you_ one." Isabella's grin was wide; showing a row of perfectly spaced, bright white teeth.

"We'll, I'd certainly look forward to that. I don't think I've ever been given a mixtape by such a beautiful young lady before," Carlisle replied, all natural charm. His innocent flirting made Isabella blush. Edward watched with fascination as the warm blood filled her cheeks, making her skin glow.

Bella turned to Esme. "Just how much Champagne has he been drinking?" She deadpanned.

Ah, she had the English affliction of excessive modesty too. Edward decided to play with his food-bearer.

"Isabella Swan, it's delightful to meet you." He took her hand and raised it to her lips, expecting a blush, a shiver, a sigh.

Anything.

Nothing. She just stared back at him, eyes dancing with amusement, as he released her hand.

"You too, Prep-Boy. I almost didn't recognize you in black tie. It ages you."

Prep boy? His tux ages him? Why did Carlisle get the coy looks and blushes, while Edward just got sarcasm and ripostes?

"Well, Goth-Girl, I apologize for bewildering you with my attire. It would seem that you are easily confused." He drawled his words on purpose, knowing sarcasm was the lowest form of wit.

Then Esme hit him on the arm.

"Edward!" She chastised, before turning to Isabella. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I've been trying to teach him some manners but it's a losing battle. I just about get him to pass muster, then he goes back to New York, and to that pit of a dorm with his degenerate friends. They manage to knock all sense of propriety out of him."

"Hey, no worries. When it's my turn with the drinks tray, I'll be sure to spill it in Prep Boy's direction." Isabella turned to give him a shit eating grin. "It was a pleasure to meet you all. I really must go and ply the rest of your guests with pig innards stuffed in pastry." With that she was moving away from them, towards the group in the other corner of the room. Edward watched as she walked away, his eyes drawn to her tight black skirt, admiring the way it clung to her round behind. It stopped well short of her knees, showcasing her amazingly perfect legs.

"Ahem." Carlisle cleared his throat loudly, causing Edward to turn back and look at his father. Carlisle had one eyebrow raised, a speculative expression covering his handsome face as he stared back at his son. Edward said nothing, just shook his head and grinned. Maybe this party would turn out to be less of a drag than he'd feared.

. . .

The arrival of the new millennium was heralded with a loud, drunken countdown. People were swallowing down yet more champagne and peppering each other with an overabundance of kisses. Edward fleetingly looked around for Isabella, but all of the waiting staff had withdrawn into the kitchen to allow the guests to enjoy the celebrations.

Then, in a move that confused him to no end, everybody linked hands in a circle and began to sing 'Auld Lang Syne'. He was sandwiched in between a fifty-year old brassy blonde, and an ageless brunette. Both of them seemed intent on grabbing his junk when they hugged him at the end of the song. He was grateful when he spotted the waiting staff arrived bringing yet more food and drink, and made a beeline for the waiter with the alcohol.

Isabella didn't seem to be among the staff. He wondered if she had left for the night. Esme had told him that she was the party planner's daughter, not a regular member of staff. For reasons unknown to himself, he hoped that she hadn't left without saying goodbye.

Then, walking out into the entrance hall, he spotted her sitting at the top of the stairs, next to a tiny form that bore a striking resemblance to his sister, Alice.

From the moment he'd laid eyes on her as a baby, ten years before, Edward had fallen head-over-heels in love with Alice. As an infant she had been all angry screwed-up faces and squealing wails, but whenever he had picked her up and rocked her, he had calmed her almost instantly. It was funny to think that he had only been ten when she was born; even then, he had felt older than his years.

Now, he worried about her constantly. She wasn't your typical pink-loving, shopaholic, Manhattan ten year old. She was quirky and funny; she read books like there was no tomorrow, and loved to sketch whatever she could lay her eyes on. She was different, and that made her a target. He knew she hated school, that she hated being laughed at, and looked down on by the other girls. Even here, in London, she was treated like a pariah.

He wanted to bundle her up, sneak her home to his apartment, and keep her safe from the outside world.

Tiptoeing up the stairs, he decided to eavesdrop on their conversation, rather than alert them to his presence. From what he could hear, Alice was doing most of the talking. It was most unusual.

"...no, I kinda liked the Spice Girls. I hate Britney Spears though, and Christina Aguilera sucks big ones. I mean, they were Mouseketeers for God's sake."

"What's a Mouseketeer?" Bella's tone was gentle and amused. Only a few steps further and he would be able to see her face. Unfortunately, then she'd know that he was listening in.

"From the Mickey Mouse Show. They do stupid dances and sketches and stuff. It's so dumb." Alice's voice was low too, as if she knew that she shouldn't be out of bed talking to a stranger at the top of the marble staircase.

"Sounds like hell on earth. Thank God you got out of America while you could."

Alice giggled. "I prefer Nine Inch Nails. Trent Reznor is the man."

This time Bella joined in the laughter. "Alice, you make me die. I can't believe a ten year old likes Nine Inch Nails. I blame your father. Esme tells me he's a huge Marilyn Manson fan."

"Oh. My. God. No, no, no. He keeps getting confused between Marilyn Manson and Marilyn Monroe. He's a fan of the blonde bimbo, not the singer. He's such an embarrassment."

Edward couldn't help it; he had to bark out a laugh in response to Alice's words. Carlisle was always trying to keep up with the latest trends, and usually made a complete ass of himself in the process. Not that he ever minded; the ability to laugh at himself was one of his father's best attributes.

"Is that you, Edward? Are you sneaking around again?" Alice's voice rang out clearly, and Edward climbed up the last few steps, finally seeing his sister close up; sitting next to Isabella, and leaning on her as they talked. Bella's legs were propped up, her knees hugged to her chest. He was finding it hard not to stare at her stockinged calves.

Bella glanced up at him. "You caught us. Now are you going to be a good Prep-Boy and keep our secret, or do we have to gag you?"

Edward suddenly felt a huge urge to respond with a dirty comment, letting Bella know exactly who could gag who, but then he remembered that his sister was sitting next to her.

His ten year old sister.

"What are you doing up here, Squirt? I thought you said you didn't want to come to the party?" He spoke to Alice indulgently. If he'd have known that she wanted to join in, he would have happily escorted her. He'd already told her this, about fifty times.

"I just wanted to watch the midnight celebrations. I'd hate for anybody to ask me what I was doing when the new millennium arrived, only to hear that I was hiding in my bed like a social misfit."

Edward winced. Sometimes she was so grown up, and over-perceptive. He hated that she felt like a social freak. He wanted to grab society around the neck and choke it until it died.

"I'm sleepy now though," Alice continued. "Bella, would you take me to bed?" She held up her arms and suddenly looked like the child she was. Edward laughed when he saw that Alice wanted Bella to carry her. There was no way that the petite girl could hold his sister for more than a couple of steps.

"Let me help you, Bella," he breathed, suddenly liking how her name felt on his tongue. Then, turning to Alice, he scooped her up. "Your carriage awaits, milady."

Alice giggled as he carried her along the hallway, putting her hand up to muffle the sound so that the guests below wouldn't notice her presence. Bella followed closely behind them, making Edward hyper-aware of her close presence.

Feeling suddenly docile, Alice nuzzled her head into her big brother's tuxedoed shoulder.

"Thanks Edward. You make a great big brother."

"Better than Emmett?" Edward was carrying her into her bedroom now, twisting slightly so that he could angle her legs through the doorway.

"Emmett isn't a brother. He's an animal. Every time I see him, he throws me up in the air. I'm always scared he isn't going to catch me." Alice's voice was slurred with sleep, and after he lay her down on the bed, Edward pulled the covers back over her. He glanced back to see Bella still standing at the door, watching them both. Smiling at her, he could feel the flesh at the corners of his eyes crinkling. When she returned his smile, her plump lips curling up at the edges, he felt something in his stomach drop.

"Well, Squirt, I can promise that we'll always be there to catch you." Edward whispered, as he kissed his sister's forehead, turning off her bedside lamp as he left the room. Alice was already asleep, her short, soft breaths coming out in a gentle rhythm.

"Your sister is very sweet," Bella said to him as he met her at the door. "She's like the absolute opposite of my evil sisters. You're very lucky."

"You have sisters?"

"Half sisters." Bella corrected him. "I like to remind myself we are only half related. I have two of them; they're the devil in the guise of eleven year-old twins. They already think I'm their social inferior."

"They sound delightful." He drawled again, seeing something flicker in Bella's eyes as he did so.

"They're a real treat. I'll swap you if you like." Her words made him grin. Her sisters sounded like just the sort of kids who would treat Alice like crap. He hated them already.

"What are you doing up here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be stuffing canapés down unsuspecting guests' throats?" It was funny how much more lighthearted he felt, upstairs with her, away from the party and the crowds.

"I'm on my break." she glanced at her watch, "I have fifteen minutes left."

"Wow, all the things you could do with those fifteen minutes. Endless possibilities." He grinned at her, his body brushing against hers as he walked through the door on the way to the hall. "Would you like to come to my room?"

"Bloody hell! You don't waste any time do you?" Bella exclaimed, making Edward re-examine exactly what it was he'd said.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean it like that. Seriously, it wasn't a proposition, not that you aren't cute or anything. What I mean is; I have a new PlayStation, a Tony Hawke game, and two controllers with our names on. Would you like to join me?" He was flustered now, taken aback by his own obtuseness and her vocal response. What was it about this girl that made him so tongue-tied?

"Well, in that case, how could I say no? I have to warn you, though, I'm absolutely useless at computer games." They walked over to the door in the middle of the landing. Edward pushed it open to reveal a large bedroom, tastefully decorated with light blue wallpaper. The shelves were lined with CDs, framed pictures and numerous electronic gadgets. For a boy that was only visiting for a few days, this sure felt like home.

While Edward set up the PlayStation, Bella stood next to his shelves, looking at the CDs, trying to gauge what sort of music he was into. Edward smiled as he saw her perplexed frown. His taste was eclectic. It was hard to categorize him when his CDs ranged from Puccini to the Prodigy.

"You have some good music. I hate to think how much your collection is worth." Bella was running her fingers over the plastic spines of the CDs, her envy palpable in every word she said. Edward suppressed a chuckle, deciding that it would be foolish to tell her that this was just a small part of his collection, and that he had thousands more CDs back in Manhattan.

"Maybe I'll make you a mixtape." His eyes met hers as he spoke, and they both laughed in remembrance at Carlisle's Marilyn confusion. "Do you want to have the first go?"

He sat down on the carpet, leaning back on the edge of his bed, his legs bent in front of him, forming a 'v'. Bella walked over and sat down beside him, refusing the proffered controller with a small shake of her head.

"You go first, I'll watch and learn." She glanced at her watch, and Edward could see she had just under ten minutes of her break left. He decided to make his go a short one.

Three aerials, a flip and three grinds later, and his 'special meter' was up and running. He was able to execute more moves, showing off a little for Bella's benefit.

"You make it look so easy." Bella complained, as he executed another perfect aerial.

"Everything is easy when you know how, Bella. And I don't sleep well, so I've had a lot of practice." Why did everything that he was saying tonight seem like a euphemism? He didn't have that problem with the girls back home. "It's your go."

Bella took the controller, and looked with grim determination at the TV screen. Her skater moved slowly along the rail, then bailed off the edge. Making another attempt, her face screwed up in frustration as exactly the same thing happened again.

"I'm so shit at this." She complained, her voice thin and whiny as she stared at the screen.

"Come here, let me help you." Edward gestured to his legs, indicating that Bella should sit between them, so he could help with the controller. He was almost surprised when she crawled straight over to him, shimmying herself between his thighs, and leaning her back on his chest. Circling her with his arms, he put his fingers on top of hers as she held the controller, showing her the buttons she needed to press to execute an aerial flip.

Shit. He clearly hadn't thought this through. The sensation of her back rubbing against his chest, and her behind wriggling against his crotch, made him instantly hard. His erection was pressing into her spine, and with only two thin pieces of material between his skin and hers, he knew for sure that she could feel it.

Bella turned around, amusement dancing across her face as she looked at him quizzically.

"Wow, you must really like this game," she teased him, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Don't take it personally. I'm twenty years old. I get hard-ons just from watching the National Geographic channel."

Bella burst out laughing, her unbridled mirth causing Edward to join in with her. His hands were still on top of hers, and he showed her how to combine an aerial and a grind.

"Jesus! I've got special points. I'm da man. I. Am. Da. Man." Bella was moving now, squirming in happiness at having scored something other than a bail. And as she moved, her body ground against his erection, making him wince at the painful pleasure her movement caused.

Glancing at his watch, he was almost relieved to see that her break was over.

Because the way he was feeling right now, this small girl with a big personality was going to be the death of him.

* * *

**A/N - Let me know what you think! **

**Thank you to Sunflowerfran, Cutestkidsmom and Sparrownotes24 for all their help with this chapter. And thanks to all of you for reading, reviewing and recommending. And if you want to come chat, I'd love you to join my facebook group 'Chocaholic123 Fanfiction' (you can find the link on my profile). **


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**19th July 2000**

Bella pulled at her thin vest, the material momentarily sticking to her skin, before giving way, allowing the cool air to circulate around her damp flesh. Even for July the weather was unusually hot; the heavy Goth clothing she had packed in her suitcase remained neatly folded and forgotten, like a maiden aunt at a hen party.

She was all about the short shorts and vest tops right now.

Alice lay on the hammock next to her. They were reading aloud to each other from 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire', having bought the new book from the tiny shop in town the previous day. They had spent all morning lazing around the garden with it, one minute laughing at the humor, the next gasping aloud at the intensity of the prose.

"Do you think Hermoine would like me, if we met?" Alice asked, passing the book over to Bella, her hammock swinging wildly as she did so. She grabbed onto Bella's hammock, which was tied to the trees next to her own. Her sudden movement caused them both to fall onto the hot, dry earth below with a thud.

"Ow! Jeez, why not bring me down with you?" Bella's words were harsh, but her tone was teasing, and Alice's lips curled up in response. "And as for Hermoine, she'd bloody love you. What's not to love? You're clever, you're funny, and you'd beat the hell out of the boys in potions classes." Bella Not to mention the fact that if you can ride a broomstick anywhere near as well as you ride a bike, you'd definitely be in the Quidditch World Cup."

They had been at the Cullens' country cottage in the west of England for a week now. Originally, Esme had invited Bella to stay with her and Alice for a month, while Carlisle was back in New York supervising an urgent contract. But then, a couple of days before they were due to leave, Esme's mother had fallen very ill. Esme had asked Bella to take on the job of being Alice's paid companion for the summer, while Esme travelled back to the States to look after her mom.

It beat working at Safeway for the summer.

The cottage was built with a honey-colored Cotswold stone, and backed up to a large garden. It was populated with trees, and surrounded by flower beds filled with roses and hydrangeas and wonderfully fragrant lavender bushes.

When they weren't out on their bikes, cycling across the rolling Cotswold hills, Bella and Alice spent their afternoons lazing in the yard, watching over-sized bumble bees as they collected nectar from flowers, and listening to the gentle warbling of the birds, resting in the tree canopies above.

"Sometimes I wish I could go to Hogwarts. It sounds so much nicer than St Nicholas's." Alice picked at the small silver sequins attached to her T-shirt as she lay in a heap on the ground. Bella pulled her up, and they both climbed back into their respective hammocks.

"There are mean people everywhere, Alice. Just remember what an asshole Draco Malfoy is to Harry," Bella replied wistfully. "And anyway, it's the school holidays, we're not even supposed to be thinking about lessons, or uniform, or homework. We're supposed to be having F.U.N."

"You don't ever have to think about school again," Alice complained. "You're so lucky."

Bella dropped her head back on to the thick calico material, remembering her last day of school. After a long spring of exams, and coursework, and nightmares about Jude the Obscure, it was nice to finally be able to breathe, and not wonder when on earth she was going to fit in writing her next essay.

Since the New Year, she had become Alice's regular babysitter. It didn't really feel like work—although she was always grateful for the money—and the two of them always managed to have lots of fun. Bella especially enjoyed spending time with Carlisle and Esme; only eight months after their initial meeting, they already felt like her second family.

"School days are supposed to be the best days of your life." Bella's voice was low and sarcastic, and she was suddenly reminded of Alice's brother. She hadn't seen Edward since the Cullens' New Year's party but, occasionally, she found her mind wandering towards him.

"I think we both know that that's a lie." Alice kicked at Bella's hammock, sending her swinging wildly again.

In the distance, Bella heard the French-doors slam, and looked up to see a tall, blond man walking towards them. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she could see it was Jasper Whitlock, waving a piece of paper in his large, sun-tan hand. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and baggy khaki shorts, and Bella watched as the muscles of his calves flexed, as he moved across the lawn.

"Hi Jasper," Alice shouted, falling out of her hammock and running to give him a high five. He was the grandson of Shelly Cope—their cleaner—and had been in and out of the cottage all week, doing small jobs. Bella suspected that Alice had formed a tiny crush on him.

"Hey, little Al. How're you doing?" He winked at the small girl, then looked up at her companion; his lips unfurling into a slow, lazy grin. "Hello, beautiful Bella, you look a little too comfortable right now."

With that, he put his hand out and tugged at Bella's arm, catching her easily as she tumbled off of the calico mattress, the book she was holding crashing into the dirt below.

"Jasper!" she shouted crossly. "Put me down. And if you've ruined my book, you will pay with your life." She swatted at his arm, hand meeting flesh with a resounding 'thwack'.

"Hey! Mind my guitar playing arm. I haven't insured it yet." He looked at her with a mock, injured expression. "I only came over to invite the prettiest ladies in town, to come to my gig, tonight."

Jasper, who was an aspiring musician, spent most of his evenings practicing with his band, in his parents' garage. The five piece guitar based group had high hopes of being signed by an independent label.

Bella snatched the flyer from his hands and read it.

"It's at a pub, Jasper. I can't take Alice to a pub. Her parents would kill me."

At the same moment, Alice piped up; "Please can we go, Bella? I've never seen a band play before."

Bella sighed. She was pretty keen to get out herself. The thought of a pub, half a cider, and some good music, was enough to perk her spirits up, even in the oppressive, dank heat.

"There'll be loads of kids there. At least five of my nieces and nephews are coming. Come on, I'll even treat you to a coke."

"With an offer like that, how can we refuse?" Bella replied dryly, watching as an expression of delight formed on Alice's face.

At least she had managed to keep somebody happy.

. . .

At eight o'clock that evening, they found themselves watching 'Fatal Limits' warming up, as the crowd filed in and waited for their performance to begin. The pub echoed to the jarring sounds of mismatched chords and squeaking microphones. Every now and then, Jasper would glance up through his eyelashes and smile directly at Bella, who found herself biting her lip in an effort not to smile back.

She wasn't sure how she felt about the attention he was giving her. From the moment he first had walked in to the cottage, he had been flirting with her, outrageously. He'd told her how much he loved her style, and that she rocked the whole 'pretty goth-girl' vibe. Bella had rolled her eyes in response. Especially when he told her she looked like 'that chick from the Tomb Raider movie'.

Because Angelina Jolie, she was not.

When he'd asked her out for a drink, she'd used Alice as an excuse to refuse his offer. But her reticence only seemed to encourage him further.

And now, surrounded by local groupies and a couple of A&R men from record labels, he still only had eyes for Bella.

"Do you want another coke?" she muttered to Alice, who had emptied her glass bottle within a minute.

"Yes please. Can I have a straw?" Alice's Mid-Atlantic accent sounded strangely out of place in an English, country pub. It was a strange amalgamation of the Queen's English and a New York dialect. She sounded like Joan Collins on speed.

"Of course, milady." Bella gave a mock curtsey, and made her way up to the bar, and placed her order. The barman—an old man with a thick, grey beard covering his weathered skin—poured her a small glass of local cider, then took the lid off a glass bottle of coke, handing it to her along with her change.

Just as she sat back down, the band began their set. Their first song was a cover of Coldplay's 'Yellow'. Jasper's hand began to strum the soft introductory chords on his electric guitar, and leaned towards the microphone, his bright, blue eyes firmly fixed on Bella's, as he began to sing.

"_Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And everything that you do. 'Cause they were all yellow."_

His voice was deep and gravelly, and made Bella's heart drop into her stomach. She couldn't tear her eyes away. She watched as a lock of his sandy hair fell into his eyes; his lips curling into a smile, as he continued to mouth the lyrics.

A few heads in the room turned to follow his intense stare, some of them looking surprised when they saw him gazing at the petite brunette, sitting in the corner with her young friend.

Alice, oblivious to his blatant staring, continued to sip at her coke.

Bella closed her eyes, listening to Jasper, as he made vocal love to the song. She tried to breath deeply, to calm down her erratic heartbeat, as her body reacted to his words.

The set seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. Most of their songs were originals, written by Jasper and his friend Richard, designed to impress the record company representatives who had travelled across from London.

"This is our final song. I'd like to dedicate it to the beautiful girl with the perfect smile. This one's for Bella."

She could feel her face start to heat up, as the blood flooded her cheeks. Jasper flashed her a brief smile, and then winked at her as he noticed her blush.

"Do you and Alice spend a lot of time in the pub?" Bella's attention was drawn to the deep voice to her left. Spitting out her mouthful of cider in surprise, she looked up with horror as Edward Cullen walked over to her.

"Edward!" Alice jumped off the bench, nearly spilling the remnants of her coke bottle in her haste to greet him.

As he held his sister tightly to him, Edward's green eyes met Bella's brown ones.

"Esme wanted me to show Alice what English country life was like. I thought that days filled with existential dissatisfaction, followed by evenings spent numbing yourself with alcohol, would be just the thing." Bella gave him a tight-lipped smile, her sarcasm attempting to camouflage the embarrassment she felt, having been caught out.

"I was just surprised to find you here. It's not the sort of place I'd choose to bring a ten-year old child."

"Well, thank you for your childcare advice, Mr Spock." Bella's skin burned with mortification. "What are you doing here anyway?"

She stood up straight, placing her hands on her hips, looking him over for the first time. He was smartly dressed in tailored black pants, the sleeves of his dark blue shirt rolled up to his elbows—his only concession to the weather. She tried not to look too closely at his muscled forearms; skin stretched over tight tendons, flesh covered with a dusting of dark brown hair.

They made her stomach flutter.

He looked out of place in the pub, amongst the jeans, and the cargo shorts and the band tees. He was like a Renoir hanging on a wall of lurid graffiti.

"I couldn't find you at the cottage so I called Shelly Cope. She told me that her grandson had invited you out on a date." Edward's nose turned up as he finished his sentence. "And here I am."

"I meant, what are you doing here, as in England. Not the pub, silly." She decided to ignore the date jibe. She really didn't want to go there.

"I've been in Europe for a few days. I'm working for my stepfather over the summer. He's got a few things going down in Paris." Edward smiled at her for the first time, a crooked toothy grin, and Bella remembered just how much she liked him.

"That's a long way to travel for a surprise visit," Bella replied. "What if we hadn't been here?"

"It's only a couple of hours by train, Bella."

The way he said her name made her feel warm inside. She glanced over at the stage in the corner of the pub, noticing Jasper looking over at them, his forehead wrinkled with curiosity.

"Did you bring me a present?" Alice was almost jumping up and down with excitement at seeing her brother. Her enthusiasm made Bella feel a flash of warmth wash over her.

"At least she's not materialistic," Edward whispered to Bella, in a mock-aside. "I'd hate to think she only loves me for my money."

"Edward." Alice was grinning now, as she hung on to her brother's shirt with her grubby fingers. "You know I love you too. So what did you bring me?"

"I'll show you when we get back to the cottage, Squirt," he replied, then turned his head to address Bella. "Are you ready to go?"

Bella looked over to the stage, where Jasper was standing, having put his guitar down. He was talking to a few people, who were milling around the bar. The whole pub was buzzing with excitement. The smell of success seemed to be in the air.

"I'll just let Jasper know we're leaving." Ignoring Edward's frown, Bella left him standing with his sister, as she walked over to Jasper, in order to say her goodbyes.

As she approached him, Jasper's face lit up with a smile.

"What did you think?" He pulled her towards him, putting his hand on her waist in a proprietary gesture. Bella felt his fingers curling around and lightly touching her stomach; his familiarity unsettled her.

Particularly when she could feel a pair of green eyes watching her every move.

"You were great. Alice and I loved the songs." She pulled away from his hold. "We have to go home now, though."

"You're leaving so soon? Who is that guy anyway?"

"Edward Cullen." She was surprised that Jasper didn't know him. The Cullens had owned the cottage in the village for about ten years, according to Esme. Apparently Edward didn't visit very often.

"Oh." His face fell.

Bella looked at Jasper in confusion. His face was slightly pink, as he glanced over at Alice and her brother. She bit her lip, wondering if he was jealous.

"He's come to see Alice," she blurted out.

Jasper's smile returned almost instantaneously. "Does that mean you have a babysitter available?"

"_I'm_ the babysitter, remember?" Bella replied dryly. "And I don't think I can ask the son of my employer to look after my ward while I go off gallivanting. It doesn't give the right impression."

"Shame, I guess I'll just have to take up residence under your window and serenade you with love songs." He winked at her.

"Feel free. I wear ear plugs. I'm sure the local cats will enjoy it though," she replied dryly.

"Are you ready, Bella?" Edward asked, as he and Alice walked over to join them.

"Err, yes." Bella could feel the heat flood her cheeks again. "Edward Cullen, this is Jasper Whitlock, he's with the band."

And she was a loser. Jesus, could she sound any lamer?

"Pleased to meet you." Edward shook Jasper's hand firmly. For two guys of a similar age, their differences couldn't be more apparent. Next to the unkempt, slightly dishevelled singer, Edward looked older and much more sophisticated.

And totally out of her league.

"Can we go Bella?" Alice was tugging at her arm now, desperate to get home and open her promised gift.

"Okay, okay, we're leaving!" Bella could feel herself start to laugh at Alice's desperation.

Jasper leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and at the same moment Bella turned her head to look at him. She was still mid laugh, and her open mouth clashed against his. She felt Jasper gasp as they touched. The blood rushed to her lips, as she felt his mouth start to move slowly against hers; the tip of his tongue was running a wet line along her plump skin, before starting to probe against her own.

She quickly pulled away, her face heating in humiliation as she saw Edward raise his eyebrow at her, his lips pulled back into a thin, straight, line.

The night just kept getting better and better.

. . .

Edward planned to stay with them for five days, before he was due to fly back to New York. He told Bella this the next morning, as they wandered along an old tow-path running alongside the canal, watching Alice as she flitted about. She barely noticed that Edward and Bella were lagging behind her, as she picked daisies and threw sticks into the fast, flowing water. She looked so at ease in the English countryside.

For five days, Edward joined in their routine; reading aloud with them as they finished Harry Potter, and choosing his favorite character as they acted out scenes from the book. Alice was always Hermoine, and had decided that Bella should play Harry Potter. Edward, for some reason, chose Cedric Diggory as his favorite; citing his bravery and brilliance as the reason. Bella suspected that he just had a thing for Cho Chang.

Without the suit and tie on, it was like Edward Cullen was a different person.

In the evenings, after putting Alice to bed, they sat together and watched TV. A new program had started on one of the channels; some sort of reality-based experiment, where ten people were forced to live together in a closed house. Bella found it fascinating to watch.

"It's not really like 1984 though is it?" Edward mused, as he offered her another chocolate cookie from the packet they were sharing. "I mean, Big Brother would be having them stand to attention, and swearing loyalty to him. Not let them laze around in the yard, talking to chickens."

Bella smiled as she took a biscuit. "Nasty Nick is slightly Orwellian though," she replied, referring to the 'bad' contestant who was trying to stir things up. "Or maybe I mean Machiavellian."

"He's definitely read 'The Prince'," Edward agreed. "And the rest of them are way too dumb to notice.

When the adverts came on, Bella stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she took out two bottles of Becks, pulling the lids off as she walked back to the living room.

She walked back into the room, noticing his eyes darken as the stared right at her bare legs. Her breath hitched slightly, at the intensity of his gaze.

Giving one, icy cold bottle to Edward, she moved the other up to her lips, closing her eyes as she took a long sip of the cool lager.

And as she swallowed, she glanced at Edward and saw him doing the same.

What with Alice's bedtime routine, the fact they had a favorite T.V. program, and their sharing of beer and cookies, it seemed like they were turning into a parody of an old, married couple.

…..Minus the sex.

* * *

**A/N - Lyrics by Coldplay. Thanks to Sunflowerfran, Sparrownotes24, and Cutestkidsmom for their help with this chapter.**

**Fic Recs: Under My Skin by Missjude - Tattward at his finest. A Whisper of Chaos by theonlykyla - so intense, but hooks you in.  
**


	5. Chapter 4

**Fix You – Chapter 4**

**24****th**** July 2000**

Edward had left the cottage just before 5AM, so that he could catch the early flight to JFK. The plane was crowded, but the Black family always flew first class. And even though Edward was a Cullen, William Black wouldn't have let him travel any other way.

A black Lincoln was waiting for him at the arrivals gate. The driver took his luggage, and Edward followed him to the parking lot. He sat in the back, as the driver steeled himself against the New York traffic. Looking out of the window, watching the streets pass by, Edward wondered when he would see his little sister again.

He closed his eyes, as he remembered their final night together, just the three of them.

_They sat on the village green, eating their last supper of fish and chips straight out of the paper. Alice was perched on the concrete steps of the War Memorial, throwing chips at pigeons as they swooped down, trying to steal her food from her fingers. Bella and Edward were side by side on a wooden bench a few yards away, watching the sun go down, their fingers coated with vinegar, salt and chip grease._

_A small smile crept across his face, as he saw a smudge of ketchup clinging to the corner of Bella's mouth. He moved towards her, hand outstretched, and rubbed it away with his thumb. He felt the strangest urge to move his thumb slightly leftward, to plunge it inside her soft mouth, just to see how it felt. Instead he put it to his own lips and licked the sauce off. _

_His heart beating faster, he moved back from her quickly, crossing his legs to hide the painful tumescence of his cock, as she stared back at him. Her mouth was still slightly parted, and he could see a small hint of tongue just behind her lips._

"_Are you growing out your hair color?" He'd noticed that her hair was longer and lighter than when he met her in London at New Year._

"_I'm trying to reinvent myself for College. I'm going to go for more of a rock-chick vibe. Goth is so last century."_

_Edward had laughed at her idealistic enthusiasm, her belief that you could simply reinvent yourself with a change of hair color. If only it were that easy._

"_Rock chick?" He'd looked at her sceptically._

"_Yep, I'm getting bored of only wearing black. Even I need to wear color occasionally."_

"_Well, I look forward to meeting the newly re-invented Bella Swan. Maybe you can send me a photo."_

"_Maybe you can bite me, perv," she replied, bumping him with her shoulder. Pushing her back, she'd fallen off the wooden bench, landing on the hard, dry grass with a thump._

_He hadn't laughed so hard in a long time, as when he'd seen her outraged expression._

Back in the introverted atmosphere of Manhattan, it seemed like he had spent his whole life on the move, but was getting nowhere fast. Edward walked up the steps to the townhouse, and put his case on the ground as he searched through his pockets for his keys. He'd put them in there after he'd been through the security scanner at Heathrow, but hadn't checked since.

He was home, though it was a strange word to describe this place. The interior of the house was too pristine, too stark. Too Elizabeth Black. And yet, if anywhere, this was the one place that should be home to him. He'd spent the best part of fifteen years here.

His mind drifted once again towards the honey-stone cottage in the English Countryside. It was like the past five days had been a dream. Halcyon days, spent with his sister and Bella, being stupid, and funny, and young.

And happy.

If you'd asked him why he'd enjoyed his time in England so much, he would never have been able to explain. He'd be loath to tell his friends exactly what he'd been doing in an country cottage with his sister and her babysitter, especially since it hadn't included sex. In fact, without that particular act being involved, he could guarantee that not one of his friends would show the slightest bit of interest.

Once inside the door, he walked towards the kitchen, where he could hear the maid, Maria, singing as she cleaned the floor. She had worked for William Black for a long time, and had been living at the Brownstone long before Edward and his mother moved in.

"Edwardo!" A smile lit up her face as she saw him stalk into the room. "You've come home. Come here and give me a kiss."

He walked over and embraced her, lifting her up and swinging her around as she swatted at his arms, trying to get him to release her.

"Where is everybody?" he asked, as he finally put her back down.

"Your momma is in the Hamptons. And Jacob had to go to work with his father. He wasn't very happy about it either."

Jacob Black was Edward's seventeen year old stepbrother; the only son and heir of William Black. And what a legacy awaited him; a multi-billion dollar empire, encompassing everything from real estate, to financial advisory services. William Black had a multitude of investments spread across the globe.

Edward reached around Maria and stole a still-warm roll that was cooling on a rack behind her. She reached out and slapped his hand as he did so, but the smile never left her face.

"Are we entertaining tonight?" He bit into the bread. It was pure, sourdough pleasure.

"Mr Black has invited the Denalis to join you for dinner."

"At eight?" Edward's eyebrows rose up. He wondered if Tanya would be joining them.

"Yes, sir." When she spoke to him, the 'sir' was always accompanied by a teasing smile. It was different to when she said it to William, or even Jacob, for that matter.

"Well, in that case, I'll be in my room, sleeping off the jet-lag." Edward winked and left the kitchen.

When he got upstairs, he wasn't surprised to find that his room was cleaner, and more fragrant, than when he had left it over a week ago. Maria had clearly attacked it with gusto during his absence.

During the summer months, when school was out, this was where he slept. But despite its plush furnishings, expensive wallpaper, and extravagant light fittings —or maybe because of them—it was nowhere near as comforting as the downtrodden rooms he shared with Riley and Eric during the academic year.

Throwing his suitcase in the corner, and kicking off his shoes, he lay down on top of the comforter, closing his eyes as soon as his head hit the pillow.

That was the first time he dreamed of Bella Swan.

When Edward awoke with a start at 7:30PM, it was just beginning to get dark outside. He sat up suddenly; his head whipping around as he tried to work out exactly what it was that had woken him up. A door slammed somewhere on the ground floor. Clearly William and Jacob were home.

He'd been having such a good dream.

_For some reason, Bella Swan had been sitting next to him on the plane ride home. She was wearing a short and extremely attractive Air Hostess uniform, the skirt so miniscule that he could see a hint of soft pale skin above her white lacy stockings. Her hair had been a chestnut color, softer, with waves floating down to her mid back. Without speaking, she had leaned over him and unzipped his pants. And taken him into her mouth._

_Oh Jesus, that mouth. The softness of her tongue, the moist warmth of her lips as they wrapped around his dick. He'd almost come immediately._

Until some bastard had woken him up.

And now he was exhausted, horny, and extremely irate. Just the sort of mood he could do without, when faced with an evening that included the Blacks and the Denalis.

The only silver lining was the possibility that Tanya might be joining them.

And what was it about Bella anyway? During the five days he'd spent with her, he'd not thought of her as anything other than a friend—an amusing, pretty, friend. She was like family to him, somebody he wanted to take care of, and protect. The thought of her sucking his dick hadn't really crossed his mind. At least, that was what he was telling himself.

Though right now, it was hard to think about anything else.

When he walked into the Drawing room, he could see that the Denalis had already arrived. Eleazar Denali was a business associate of William Black, and their mutual worship of the US Dollar had formed a strong bond between them.

"Edward, good to see you." William motioned him over to where he was standing, next to a highly lacquered sideboard covered with silver photo frames. Every photograph had been carefully chosen by Elizabeth, making their family look like some sort of advertisement for all-American goodness.

"Good evening, Sir." Edward shook his stepfather's hand.

"How was Paris?" William spoke in a low voice, pulling Edward aside so he could speak with him in relative privacy. "Were there any problems?"

"No, Sir. As soon as I gave them the envelope they became most accommodating." Edward smirked at the memory. He knew that William had been using him as a mule, of sorts, to grease a tricky transaction. But hell, he'd gotten a free trip to Europe out of it. He wasn't complaining.

"Excellent. And how was England?" By this time, William's eyes were wandering around the room. He was already bored with the conversation.

"England was very pleasant. Can I get you a drink, Sir?" Edward gestured to the open drink cabinet in the far corner.

"That would be great. I'll have a whiskey. Add a dash of soda."

Wandering over to the cabinet, Edward could see his stepbrother, Jacob, standing with the Denalis, looking as bored as ever. Four years younger than Edward, he had been a pain in the butt ever since Edward could remember. He was short for his age, but had a strong, sturdy body, and short, dark hair. Nobody would ever have thought they were blood relatives, a fact for which Edward was supremely thankful.

Over the past year he'd been hearing whispers on the grapevine, that Jacob and his friends were stuffing coke up their noses like there was no tomorrow. It didn't surprise him; Jacob always had money burning a hole in his pocket, and the common sense of a microorganism.

"Edward!" Tanya peeled herself away from her family, and walked over to him. "I've missed you this summer."

He and Tanya had hung around together, on and off, for about two years now. They kept bumping into each other at dinners and parties, and at the occasional nightclub. Those nights usually ended with her on her knees, in one position or another.

"Well, I'm back now." He kissed the air next to her cheek, and then pulled away. "Can I get you a glass of something?"

"Yes, white wine, please." She walked with him to the cabinet. "I think your stepbrother was trying to hit on me."

Edward wondered whether she was trying to make him jealous. Then he realized that he didn't feel any emotion at all in response to her words.

"Did he have any luck?"

"Edward! You know I only have eyes for you."

That wasn't the part of her anatomy he was particularly interested in.

"Meet me upstairs after dinner," he whispered in her ear, watching her face light up at his words. Then, turning his back on her, he walked the last few steps to the drink cabinet, and began to pour out the liquor.

Dinner was served at eight, consisting of Vichyssoise, followed by a medallion of beef served on creamed potatoes, with a redcurrant jus. Edward ate with gusto— he'd barely eaten anything since he'd left England earlier that day. Even in first class, airplane food was a turnoff for him.

After the meal had ended, and he'd joined his step-father and Eleazar Denali in a glass of port, Edward wandered upstairs, pulling his tie off from around his neck as he walked into his bedroom. Kicking his highly shined shoes on to the carpet, he lay back on the bed, his arms folded behind his head, as he awaited his guest's arrival.

He didn't have to wait long.

At twenty-two, Tanya Denali was one year his senior. With her long flaxen hair, prominent nose and full lips, she bore a passing resemblance to the late Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy. Her demureness lasted only for a moment; before she closed the door behind her and started to slowly peel the clothes away from her slender, toned, body.

And within five minutes she was on her knees, on the floor of Edward's room, her lips wrapped around him, as she moved her mouth up and down his length, her tongue flicking across the tip as she released him. He knew he was using her, but felt very little compunction as she worked her magic on his body until he exploded.

The downside, of course, was that he had to return the favor. Years of practice meant he knew exactly what she liked, and knew how to get right to the nub of the problem. So he moved down her body, kissing her skin as he went, closing his eyes as he pulled her legs gently apart and went straight for the kill.

Tanya, of course, loved it. Within minutes she was laying back on his bed, her body spasming in time to the movement of his mouth.

"Mmmm." She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, her mouth opening slightly. Edward looked at her, his brows furrowed, as he began to wonder how the heck he could gracefully ask her to leave his room.

"What time are your parents planning to leave tonight?" There, that should do it.

"What time is it now?" Tanya sat up; patting her hair down, she looked around for the clothing she had so carelessly discarded when she'd performed her striptease for him earlier.

"Ten thirty." Edward was smirking now. Seeing her so flustered was unusual. She was normally the epitome of an Ice Queen. Only in his room, or in hers, or occasionally in a public bathroom, did he get to see this side of her.

Tanya was already up, and pulling her clothes back on. He watched her as she put her arms through her bra strap, and then moved them around to do the clasp up. She always wore elegantly expensive lingerie. This set was no exception

"Momma wants to be home by eleven. She has an early spin class." Her dress was pulled over her head. "Maybe I could see you tomorrow?"

"I'm busy tomorrow." He didn't suggest another day. Not once, in the two years that they'd been doing this _thing_, had he ever taken Tanya out on a date. He'd never given her reason to think they were a couple, or that they were exclusive. He wasn't planning to start now.

"Oh. Okay." She was looking in the mirror now, fluffing her hair up, and then reapplying the lipstick she took out of her tiny purse. "I guess I'll see you around."

"I guess you will."

He watched her leave, pulling the door closed behind her, then jumped up and pulled his own clothes back on. Fastening his jacket, he looked in the mirror to make sure his tie was straight.

His hair was a mess, thanks to Tanya and her goddamn tugging fingers. He ran his hair through it, attempting to pull it into some sort of order.

Out in the hallway, Jacob was walking out of his own bedroom, pulling a hoody around his shoulders. He had changed out of his suit, and was wearing a pair of baggy, over-washed trousers, hanging off his ass, revealing more than a hint of white Calvin Klein's. A chain was attached to the side of his jeans, leading in to his pocket. And on his head was a cap, turned backwards.

Edward restrained himself from opening his mouth. The only words which sprung to mind were _"Pretty fly, for a white guy."_ It was times like these that made him pleased they weren't blood-relatives..

"I'm going out. Don't tell dad." Jacob looked at him, as if Edward was going to challenge him.

"Okay." Edward started to walk past his stepbrother, still trying to contain his amusement.

"Seth and I are going to hang out." Even Jacob's gait had changed. He was loping along, in a strange parody of a gangster-walk.

Seth Clearwater was Jacob's best friend. Edward knew his brother, Sam, from Prep school. Back then, Sam had been the biggest cocaine dealer in the school. He was beginning to suspect that Jacob was getting himself into more trouble than he bargained for.

Walking down the stairs, preparing himself to say goodbye to the Denalis, he shrugged.

Not his problem.

* * *

**A/N Thank you to SunflowerFran for BETAing and Cutestkidsmom's and Sparrownotes24 for pre-reading.  
**

**Thanks to you for reading and reviewing. I have been sending out teasers with my review replies, and I think I managed to reply to everyone. Apologies if I missed you, I shall make it up to you by sending Edward around for the night.**

**I'm on twitter and Facebook, and love chatting via PM, feel free to join me (links on my profile). Have a great weekend! Choc x**


	6. Chapter 5

**Fix You – Chapter 5**

**October 5****th**** 2000**

"So, Bella Swan. What is your USP?" Tyler Crowley, editor of the student magazine, leaned back in his threadbare swivel chair, removing the pencil that he had put behind his ear some moments before, and began to tap it against his teeth as he stared at her.

Bella frowned. What the hell was a USP? She wondered if it was some sort of journalistic term that she should be aware of. She didn't want to look stupid and admit she knew virtually nothing about writing for a newspaper.

She had applied for the position of unpaid staff writer on 'Impact', the University magazine, as soon as she'd arrived in Nottingham the previous week, to start her degree course. And now she was here, being interviewed by the highly intelligent editor, and already she was making a fool of herself.

Looking up at Tyler, her open mouth and wide eyes betraying her cluelessness, she watched as he gazed back at her with a nonplussed expression.

"What I mean, Bella Swan, is what is your Unique Selling Point? What makes you special? What do you have that all the other applicants don't?"

He had obviously taken pity on her. It would seem that the 'deer in the headlights' look got her somewhere in life, after all.

It was a shame she couldn't use it on her family as easily.

"Well, Tyler Crowley." She allowed herself a small grin at using his full name, in the same way he had said hers. "I have many Unique Selling Points. I'm hardworking, I'm determined, and I never take no for an answer."

"You and everybody else I've spoken to today. That doesn't make you unique. That just makes you desperate." Tyler was shaking his head now, smirking at her response. He was annoyingly attractive, with his mop of sandy hair, strong jaw and day-old stubble. He had perfected the 'geek-chic' look, with his black rimmed glasses that kept sliding down his nose, torn, over-washed jeans, and his wrinkled checked shirt with sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms and hands that were covered with black ink. He was in the final year of his journalism degree, but to Bella he seemed so much more than two years her senior.

She dragged her eyes away from him, and glanced around the room, wondering what on earth set her apart from all the other 18 year-olds on campus. Having met so many other freshers that week, she had come to realize that they were all just kids, trying to be adults. Some of them didn't even bother to try.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a large poster on the wall, advertising a gig that was taking place the following week. She turned her head to look at it, smiling as she recognized the man posing on the front of the poster. He was wearing a tight black shirt, his wild blonde hair flying everywhere as he strummed his guitar.

"I know the lead singer of 'Fatal Limits'." She gestured over to the picture on the wall, advertising the band as the headline act. "I could score an interview with them."

Tyler leaned forward, his curiosity sparked for the first time that morning. "Are you shitting me?"

"No!" Bella laughed at his expression. "Seriously, I met him in the summer. They've just been signed by an independent label. I can call him right now if you like."

Bella allowed herself to smile for the first time since she'd walked into the interview. Jasper had called her only last night, asking her how her first week had gone, and pointedly questioning whether she had met any hot guys. Not once had he mentioned that he was playing at her University the following week, although he had hinted that he'd be seeing her 'very soon'. She wondered if he was planning to surprise her.

Tyler was still regarding her with interest, his pencil firmly wedged in between his teeth as he began to softly chew on it.

"Okay. Let's agree that if you score an interview with Fatal Limits, AND if you write a good enough article, then I'll put you on a three month trial." His smile now was genuine, making his face light up in a most frustratingly delicious way.

"Thank you!" Bella was incredulous, finding it hard to believe that out of nearly a hundred applicants, she had been given a trial. She felt like doing a little celebration dance.

"I'll warn you now; I'm a pretty hard taskmaster. I've been known to make grown men cry with my editing. I don't take any bullshit, and if you're after an easy ride, then this isn't the job for you."

She looked back at Tyler, taking in his serious face. His deep blue eyes were open wide and his mouth was closed in a firm line. He had the expression of a man that didn't take any shit at all—bull or otherwise.

"I'm not after any kind of ride, thank you very much," Bella replied pithily, returning his stare with a piercing one of her own. "And a lot bigger men than you have tried, and failed, to make me cry."

"I'll take that as a challenge, then."

"Please do."

Tyler put out his hand and grabbed hold of Bella's. He shook it a couple of times, as if to seal the deal.

"I look forward to working with you, Bella Swan."

"Please call me Bella. Swan is my surname; it sounds weird when you say it like that."

"Okay then. Bella it is. I look forward to working with you Bella." He paused. "No Swan."

"You just couldn't resist it, could you?" She was shaking her head at him.

"You think you're irresistible?" He raised a single eyebrow at her.

"Not as much as you do."

Tyler took his glasses off and placed them on the desk to his right. Running his hand through his hair, he leaned forward, until his face was only inches from Bella.

"Are you hitting on me, Bella Swan?" She could feel his soft breath against her skin. He was _that_ close.

"If you have to ask, then the answer's no." She moved back slightly, feeling aroused and slightly unnerved by his close proximity. "If I was hitting on you, you'd know it."

"Then I look forward to knowing it."

"Don't hold your breath." She pushed herself up from the chair, picking up her resume and portfolio. "Thank you for the job offer. I look forward to you publishing my first piece." Sounding more confident than she felt, she gave Tyler a quick nod, and walked out into the main newspaper office.

Closing the door behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure if she was attracted to Tyler Crowley, or if she wanted to kill him.

When she got back to her dorm room, there was a small brown parcel wedged into the mailbox by her door. Pulling it out, she saw from the postal stamp that it had been mailed from New York. The customs form affixed to the back had been smudged in the rain, the writing illegible.

She wondered what on earth her father was doing; sending her books. As far as Bella knew, Charles wasn't even aware of what subject she was studying, much less what volumes she would need for her course. Part of her couldn't wait to see what sort of inappropriate present he had sent her this time. Though, she supposed that, at the very least, she should give him some sort of kudos for remembering her.

Pulling the key out of her pocket, Bella placed it in the lock, turning it as she leaned on the door in an attempt to get it to open without sticking. It had taken her a few days to master the technique required to actually get into her own bedroom.

On arrival at the University, she had been allocated a double room, complete with an ensuite bathroom. She was sharing it with a girl called Charlotte, who was studying French and spent a lot of her time leaning out of the bedroom window, smoking Gauloises cigarettes and occasionally shouting out obscenities in obscure foreign languages to unsuspecting passers-by.

Charlotte was nowhere to be seen today, and Bella was relieved to be able to breathe in the air without choking. She just knew they were going to lose their security deposits by the time next July arrived.

Shaking her head, she picked up the package one more time, turning it over in her hands before she began to unwrap it. Tugging at the parcel tape that was sealing the brown paper together, she managed to open the whole thing up without tearing it at all. A sense of satisfaction washed over her. It was the exact same feeling that she got when she managed to take all the peel off an orange in one go.

Pulling the book from the packaging, she was surprised—to say the least—at the contents.

It wasn't pristine and new. It had that unique, dusty odor that only old books possessed. A hardcover, with a bottle-green dust jacket, it looked extremely well preserved for its age. The large white script across the front cover left her in no doubts that the gift was not, in fact, from Charles Swan.

It was 1984, by George Orwell.

As she opened the front cover, she saw the words 'first edition', written in pencil on the title page.

An envelope fell out from its hiding place between the pages, landing softly on her white embroidered bedcover. She could feel her heart start to beat faster, as she picked it up, putting her finger into the gap at the edge of the flap and moving it along the edge in order to tear it open. Pulling out the expensive cream notepaper, she unfolded it and began to read.

_1__st__ October 2000_

_Dear Bella,_

_The beginning of your University career is definitely something worth celebrating, but as Thomas Carlyle said, '__The greatest university of all is the collection of books." As soon as I saw this, I couldn't help but think of you. Thank you, not only for your kindness to Alice over the summer, but for also entertaining her lonely, and occasionally annoying, Big Brother. _ _If the newly invented Bella Swan is anywhere near as interesting as the old one, I look forward to seeing you again soon._

_Yours,_

_Edward._

Bella stared at the letter for a while, reading the words over and over again. It was so short—just a note really—but she couldn't help but find herself getting a little overcome at the gesture.

He'd bought her a book. A first edition, no less. She couldn't imagine it was inexpensive, not the sort of thing you could pick up at a charity shop, or a thrift store.

Plus, he'd called her interesting. For some unknown reason, she liked that. She _really_ liked that. The way that the Cullens were lavishing that word on her was making her change her mind about it. For the first time, it felt good to be interesting; to be different.

After spending ten minutes wondering how to thank him, she decided to go down to the Computer suite in the basement of the halls of residence, and send him an email.

.

_From: IMSwan_

_To: EACullen _

_Subject: Big Brother_

_Dear Edward,_

_Wow, thank you so much for your impressive gift. I have never owned a first edition of anything before, so I am very excited to start this new collection. I probably have some way to go before I can have anything approaching Thomas Carlyle's 'university of books' but a girl has to start somewhere, right?_

_I'm slightly concerned, however, that you sent me a book which basically tells me that Big Brother is watching me. Should I be worried?_

_Bella._

_PS: I have been assigned room 101 as my bedroom._

.

She clicked on the 'send' icon, and sat back, deciding to Google exactly how much a first edition of 1984 was worth.

Within moments she wished she hadn't. There was no way she could keep that thing in her bedroom. It was worth more than the rest of her possessions added together. And some.

Just as she started to consider returning the gift, her email alert pinged.

.

_From: EACullen _

_To: IMSwan  
_

_Subject: Watching You?_

_Bella,_

_You are very welcome. And as to your question, it very much depends on what you've been doing._

_Edward._

_PS: Does room 101 contain your worst fear?_

.

She smiled as she read his words, feeling inordinately happy that he had replied so quickly. She glanced at her watch; it was 4:00PM in the UK, which meant it was around 11:00AM in New York. She assumed he was either in the library, or at home at his desk, working on his laptop. After chewing on a fingernail for a moment, she decided to respond.

.

_From: IMSwan  
_

_To: EACullen _

_Subject: My Worst Nightmare_

_Edward,_

_Since you were Cedric Diggory to my Harry Potter, I suspect you already know what my worst nightmare is—indeed you were killed by it. But since I cannot say the name, I'll tell instead that I'm sharing a bedroom with a six foot tall, chain smoking, French-speaking Amazonian. I have no doubt that anybody with a name beginning with V would be scared shitless by her. I know I am._

_Bella_

.

_From: EACullen _

_To: IMSwan  
_

_Subject: So I died. Bite me._

_Bella,_

_You had to rub my nose in it. So my character croaked at the end, I didn't know that when I picked him did I? Next time I'll choose Snape. At least that way I'll get to dominate you and treat you like shit._

_When does the next book come out anyway?_

_Edward._

.

_From: IMSwan  
_

_To: EACullen _

_Subject: My Worst Nightmare_

_Edward,_

_Seriously? You want to dominate me? I'll ponder on that while I'm eating the refectory's latest dinner offering. I believe we're in for a treat tonight; Tuna Casserole with a side of over-boiled spinach. So, when I saw the title of your email, I really was tempted to bite you._

_Thanks for the offer._

_Bella._

_._

_From: EACullen _

_To: IMSwan  
_

_Subject: Anytime, Sweetheart_

_Seriously._

_Edward x_

.

Bella smiled at the kiss on the last email, as she logged off the computer, hardly even leaving the chair before another student, desperate to check his emails, jumped into her place.

All in all, today was turning out to be a good day…a really, really good day.

The following Friday, Bella found herself in the backstage area of the University's Concert hall, pushing her way through the corridor, which was teaming with rock bands, comedians and variety acts, all vying for dressing space. The front of house was being prepared for the influx of thousands of students, all on the hunt for a good time. Ready to dance, drink and intoxicate themselves, all in the name of fun.

Bella wasn't drinking. She was trying to keep her wits about her, jotting down notes on her reporter's pad as she walked around, attempting to convey an impression of the atmosphere backstage, as the tight hallways heated up. The mirrors in the dressing rooms were misting over with the warmth and vapour of too many bodies crammed into too small a space.

As the headliners, Fatal Limits had been given their own room, set apart from the rest of the performers. Bella pushed her way inside, and she could see that at least one of the band was already taking advantage of having a groupie following.

"Aren't you supposed to wait until after the show for that sort of thing?" she called over to Finn, the bassist, who just gave her a two fingered wave, and went back to the girl he was feeling up in the attached bathroom. The blonde looked up, and realizing that she was giving everybody a show, pushed the bathroom door in front of her closed.

Bella rolled her eyes. She liked to think of herself as laid back and bohemian, but that was just nasty.

"They've devolved." A whisper in the corner of her ear sent a shiver down her spine. "Ever since we got signed, the rest of the band seems to have become animals."

Bella turned around, to see Jasper Whitlock standing right behind her. He gave her a lopsided grin, and then pulled her into his arms, his hands locking around her waist as he hugged her, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Bella Swan. It's good to see you, darlin'."

In the two months since they had last met, Jasper's life had taken a 180 degree turn for the better. 'Fatal Limits' had been signed by a small, but popular, independent label, who were working hard to build up the band's reputation. Step one of that plan was sending them on a tour of British universities, planning to build on a strong student following for the band, enabling them to release their album to a pre-existing fan base.

So far, it would appear the strategy was working. Everywhere they had played, 'Fatal Limits' had sold out the venues, and Nottingham University was no exception. From the interest they were attracting—both male and female—it wouldn't be long before they were getting regular airplay.

"Look at you, Jasper Whitlock," Bella pulled at his hair, noticing how it had been expensively trimmed, his sandy locks still falling slightly onto his forehead, but somehow looking more groomed. "You've gone all Chris Martin on me."

Jasper hugged her tighter. His face was touching hers, as he murmured into her ear. "If you compare us to Coldplay in your article, I'll stuff it down your beautiful neck."

"If you insist on playing 'Yellow' I'll have no other option."

"If I insist on playing 'Yellow', you'll melt at my feet, just like you did last time."

Bella pulled back from Jasper, turning to look up at him with her brows raised.

"Seriously? You think I was impressed by a Coldplay cover?"

"I don't think it's my singing that impresses you. I suspect that it's my body."

Bella started laughing, and hit him on the arm.

"Mind the guitar arm!"

"Haven't you got it insured yet?" Bella put out her arm and rubbed at his bicep, surprised by how hard it was. The boy had clearly been working out.

"I'm working on it. Apparently, Keith Richards insured his arm for $3 million"

"Well, Keith Richards is an idiot. And probably has a small cock, too."

"You'll be pleased to know that I don't have that problem. Maybe I can show you later?"

"Maybe you can keep it zipped in your pants, or find a willing groupie." Bella pushed him away, pulling her notepad out. "We're on the record now, so if you want to continue being a sleaze-ball, feel free." She winked at him to let him know she was just kidding. His flirting was automatic, he couldn't help but do it to every girl he spoke with. It was part of his natural charm.

"Okay, Lester Bangs, we can do the sex thing later. What's your first question?" Jasper gave her a slow, easy grin. He looked like he was enjoying himself.

Bella grinned, pulling her pen out of her pocket as she turned over the page of her notebook.

"My first question, Jasper Whitlock, lead singer of the up and coming rock band Fatal Limits, is 'when did you become such a dick?'"

* * *

**A/N Thank you to SunflowerFran for BETAing and Cutestkidsmom's and Sparrownotes24 for pre-reading.  
**

**Thank YOU for all your reviews - I love reading them, and I try to respond to them all (although I can't respond to guest reviews - wish I could). I hope you all got the teaser I sent out.  
**

**If you fancy a chat, come see me on twitter and Facebook, (links on my profile). I try to post photo teasers there too, just to let you know how I imagine the characters.  
**

**Thanks for reading, have a great week. Chocaholic xx  
**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**December 2000**

After everything that had happened last year, she couldn't believe she had agreed to this.

She had called her father in November, to explain that she wouldn't be joining him in France for Christmas. Making up a lie about having to help Renee during her busiest time of year, she'd hoped to leave it at that.

But Charles, for some reason, kept probing until he'd discovered that her last lecture before the Christmas break was on December 1st. Within a couple of hours he had arranged for his secretary to book Bella on a flight to New York on Monday, December 4th, so that she could visit with him and Irina for the week.

This whirlwind of activity had taken Bella by surprise; she was too gobsmacked to even think of an excuse. She did, however, allow herself a small smile when she thought about Irina's reaction to the news. What would her response be?

Bella was also hoping to see some bands play while she was in New York—the thought of which made the entire trip seem more bearable. The New York music scene was pretty hot right now, and she was looking forward to feeling a bit of the heat.

Ever since she had handed in her first article to Tyler Crowley, she had become the paper's regular rock reporter. Somewhere in between she had managed to fit in lectures, and tutorials and assignments. It had been a busy few months.

And just liked that, Bella had discovered her first love.

Music Journalism.

Not that she felt like a journalist right now; sitting in the back of the black Lincoln Town car that her father had sent to pick her up. She felt like a scared little girl, being dragged to see the Principal because she'd done something wrong. She just happened to be doing it in luxurious surroundings.

Chewing on her nails as she stared out of the car window, she thought about Tyler Crowley and the growing attraction between them. When they weren't at lectures, they spent most of the day together, holed up in the newspaper offices, soaking up the electric atmosphere as the print deadlines came closer, until Tyler was wound up so tightly that he would almost explode.

But even when he was being an asshole, she still couldn't help but find him attractive.

The previous Friday, when they were clearing their desks out in preparation for the Christmas break, Tyler had wandered over to her, his body brushing hers as he reached across to steal a wrapped chocolate from the bowl on her desk. As he did so, Bella felt a delicious frisson of electricity pulse through her body, causing her to let out a little gasp as she looked up at him.

He'd smiled back at her, then leaned down to brush his lips against hers. "Remind me to do something about this when you get back."

That already seemed so long ago. Now she was on a different continent and in a different time zone. This was Charles Swan's playground, and Bella wasn't sure that she wanted to join in the games. She was certain she didn't have a choice.

"We're here, Miss Swan."

The driver's voice brought Bella back to the present. They were parked outside her father's office near Wall Street. Her forehead wrinkled in surprise. It was a long time since she had been to New York to visit her father, five years at least, and only once had he ever taken her to see his office, or rather to look at the building.

"My father wants me to be dropped off here?" She could hear the confusion in her own voice. God only knew what the driver thought.

"Yes, I'm to take your luggage back to the townhouse. Give your name in at the security desk and they'll let him know you're here."

Bella nodded, shuffling over to the door and pulling at the handle. She wasn't going to wait for the driver to get out and open it; she wasn't that kind of girl.

"Well, thanks for picking me up."

"No problem, Miss Swan. Welcome to New York."

Welcome indeed. As soon as the car door opened, Bella ears were assaulted with the noise of the streets. Humming engines, punctuated with the staccato pumping of horns, accompanied the constant drone of voices as she was suddenly surrounded by people milling about the sidewalk.

So this was Manhattan.

Bella may have spent her most formative years growing up in a bustling metropolis, but the sights and sounds of London seemed like mere whispers compared to this. And the buildings, the height of them, the closed-in feeling that they gave her as she walked along, literally took her breath away. She thanked God she didn't suffer from claustrophobia.

To her left, the Twin Towers loomed over the financial district, like two sentinels standing guard over New York Harbor. Bella couldn't help but be impressed by their stature; she decided then and there that she'd definitely make a trip up to see the observation deck at some point during her visit. The view over the Atlantic Ocean on one side, and Manhattan on the other, just had to be impressive from there.

Tearing her eyes away, she walked the five yards to the office building which housed, among others, the company her father co-owned with Jack Clearwater.

From what Bella understood, and she had very little inclination to even try and comprehend exactly what it was her father did, Swan-Clearwater was a boutique investment bank. Charles had once tried to explain to Bella that this meant his firm was involved in deals worth less than one billion dollars, including mergers and acquisitions, reorganizations and the raising of capital.

He'd lost her at one billion dollars.

Walking up to the security desk, she gave the guard her name and waited for somebody to come and collect her. The foyer reeked of money; the marble floor was pristine, as if it was being constantly buffed by an invisible army, and all of the furniture was high-end. It seemed to Bella that no expense was spared. She guessed that in the world of Boutique Banking, first impressions counted.

"Bella?" She was shocked to see that her father was the one who had come to meet her. She was so sure it was going to be one of his minions, maybe an intern or something.

"Hi Dad." She allowed herself to be hugged by him.

"How was your flight? Did you get here all right?" They walked through the security turnstile and over to the elevator bank. When the elevator arrived, Charles pushed the button to take them to level four. Swan-Clearwater took up the entire floor, with the best offices reserved for her father and his partner.

"The flight was fine. It was nice to travel in first class. Thank you for paying."

"You're welcome. I just need to make a couple of phone calls, and then we can go and get something to eat." They'd reached his secretary's desk. The blonde seated there looked up at Bella with interest.

Bella assumed she was probably trying to work out how this dishevelled eighteen year old wearing ripped jeans, a band tee, and a wrinkled black jacket, could possibly be related to Charles Swan.

It was something Bella often wondered herself.

"Can I get you anything, Miss Swan? A coffee, something to eat perhaps?"

"I'm fine. I'll just sit here and wait."

Ten minutes later, Charles Swan was walking out of his office, pulling a smart, black woollen coat around his shoulders.

"I won't be coming back today, Meredith," he was speaking to his blonde secretary as he passed by her desk. "If anything urgent comes up, call me on the cell phone. Otherwise I'll check my emails tonight."

"Of course, Mr. Swan. Have a good evening. Good night, Miss Swan." Meredith gave her a small nod as Bella stood to join her dad.

This was all getting a bit surreal. First of all he had invited her over to his home in New York; something he hadn't done for a number of years. Then he had taken off early from work, just to spend some time with her. She could guarantee this was something he had never done before.

Anyone would have thought he was feeling guilty.

"I thought we could get an early dinner, then I'll take you home and you can catch up with Irina and your sisters."

Oh Joy.

"Sounds good." Bella smiled at her father, for the first time in two years. "But I'm not really dressed for dinner."

"We'll hit a diner."

"In that case, _you're_ not really dressed for dinner." Perhaps this entente cordiale could last for longer than five minutes. Bella was still sceptical though.

"Don't sweat it. Half of Wall Street will be eating there."

"Okay." She bit back her original retort, where she was going to ask him who he was and what he had done with her father. She didn't want to do anything to spoil the moment.

When they were seated, Charles ordered a Reuben, and Bella opted for a burger. As they sipped at their drinks, Bella searched vainly around in her brain to find something neutral to talk about. Luckily her father got there first.

"This place is my guilty secret. Irina would kill me if she could see me now. She thinks 'diner' is short for 'cholesterol dining'." Charles swallowed a mouthful of sandwich, picking up his glass of root beer to chase it down.

"I guess you'll have to bribe me for my silence, then." She still felt weird, sitting with her father, having a grown up conversation. Her mouth was almost aching with the need to ask him why he was doing this.

"I'll give you my Saks' Fifth Avenue charge card. It seems to work with all the rest of the women in my life."

Bella glanced over at him, thinking that she wasn't like the rest of the women in his life. Maybe that was the problem.

"S'okay. I don't expect Saks will stock my taste in clothes anyway," she mumbled, starting to rip at the napkin she had placed in her lap.

Charles' eyes softened as he saw her sad expression.

"Bella, I never got to tell you how sorry I was about last year. I know that Irina and I didn't treat you as well as we should have, and I know that I neglect you sometimes. I'm not going to go into all the reasons why it's hard for me, and I'm certainly not going to talk about how difficult things have been between your mother and me. But I'm going to try, okay? I'm going to do my best to be a better father to you."

"Okay."

She gave him a small smile, and then returned her eyes to her burger, picking it up and taking a huge bite, glad to have a diversion. Because no matter what her father said, or did, or tried to do, there was always a little part of her that would doubt him. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to change that.

. . .

The first day of her visit went well. Maria and Lexie were at school for most of the day, and Irina was performing her normal socialite duties, leaving Bella to explore Manhattan by herself. On the second day, her itinerary included a trip to Columbia University, where she'd heard all the best Prep boys went.

Since October, she had been exchanging emails with Edward regularly, and when she had told him she was coming to Manhattan, he had suggested a meet-up.

It was a beautifully clear day, although bitterly cold, and Bella decided to take a hike up to the Academic Acropolis of Morningside Heights.

Arriving at Butler Library, she spotted Edward standing on the steps, his blue woollen pea coat buttoned up to the top, a striped scarf looped around his neck. Bella stopped for a moment, and stared at him, feeling suddenly shy. Should she go and hug him, or would he be expecting a pretentious air kiss? Maybe even a handshake would suffice.

Then he saw her, and his face erupted into a huge smile. All thoughts of embarrassment left her mind, and she ran over to him, throwing her arms around him.

"Oh, my God, it's so good to see you."

Edward hugged her tightly. "It's great to see you, too."

"Thank you so much for meeting me. I'm so pleased to see a friendly face." She placed her head against his shoulder; the wool of his coat felt scratchy against her cheek. God, even bundled up he smelled good.

"I was going to suggest we hang out on the Low Steps, but it's way too cold. Let's go get a coffee in the diner instead." Throwing an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her to his side as they started to walk. "There's the Blue Java coffee shop in the library, but I thought you might like Tom's Restaurant better."

"Why's that?" Bella asked.

"You'll see." Edward started humming under his breath as they walked down the street, so quietly that Bella couldn't quite hear the tune.

As soon as they turned the corner onto Broadway, Bella suddenly realized what he was singing.

"Hey! That's Tom's Diner from that Suzanne Vega video." The corners of Bella's mouth turned up as she looked at the stone and glass façade. "I love that song."

"Most girls do." Edward took her hand and pulled her through the open door. The warmth of the diner contrasted sharply with the freezing outside air.

"You know, this is the second time in three days I've been in a diner."

"Welcome to New York."

"I'm not going to say anything about obesity epidemics."

"Feel free to call us fat. The rest of the world does."

"Hey, we're doing our best to catch up with you." Bella glanced up to see the waitress standing next to them, her pad and pen in hand.

"Can I get you a drink?" The middle aged server asked, putting napkins down on the table.

"Coffee please."

"Could you make that two please?" Bella added, watching the waitress as she walked over to the filter machine.

"So, how's the visit going?" Edward asked. During one of their recent email exchanges, Bella had confided in him, telling him about her fractured relationship with her father.

"Okay, I guess. We're both trying our hardest not to antagonize each other. It's easier said than done sometimes."

"In what way?"

Bella sat back and took a sip of coffee; the hot liquid warming her mouth as she scrunched her face up in concentration, trying to think of a way to vocalize her thoughts.

"I guess we are walking on eggshells. We're not really being ourselves, in case we upset each other. And then, when I do say something that reveals the real me, it's like he reverts back to type and the old Charles Swan tries to get out.

For example; last night I was telling him that I want to go to see a band on Thursday night, just so I can write about it for the paper, and he started to go off on one. He was shouting that I was underage, that I couldn't be seen in a drinking establishment, and that I didn't have an escort, so I wasn't allowed to go."

"But you're going anyway?"

"Damn right I am." Bella caught his eye. "There's an unsigned band that I really want to see. They're a regular at the Mercury Lounge, and they could be the next big thing."

"I kind of understand where your dad is coming from. It probably isn't safe for an eighteen year-old to be wandering around Manhattan late at night."

"I wander around Nottingham late at night all the time." Bella shrugged.

"It's not the same." Edward looked at her over his coffee mug, the steam rising up to obscure his view. "A quaint town in England isn't exactly Gotham City."

"Well, Bruce Wayne, I think I'll take my chances anyway," Bella replied, her tone of voice echoing the finality of her words.

"What if I came with you?"

There was a moment of silence as they both absorbed the implication of his words.

"You'd do that?" She put her empty coffee cup down at the table and scrutinized him. He had taken his coat off when they sat down, carefully placing it over the back of the chair. Everything about him screamed money; from his buttoned down blue Oxford shirt, open at the neck to reveal a hint of chest hair, to his dark-wash Ralph Lauren jeans.. She wondered if he knew how out of place he would look at the Mercury Lounge.

It was a risk she was willing to take, though, if it meant that she could not only go to the gig, but also keep her father happy.

"Sure. I don't think I've ever been there before," he said, as if his offer wasn't a big deal.

It was to Bella.

"So what should I do for you in return?" Her cheeks flamed as soon as the words escaped her lips. She hadn't meant to sound quite so provocative.

Edward nearly spat his coffee out of his mouth.

Bella looked at him with narrowing eyes. "I was offering you, as a friend, the opportunity to have something in return. I don't see what's funny about that."

"In that case, let me take you out to dinner before you leave. You show me your world and I'll show you mine."

Bella thought for a moment. She had absolutely nothing appropriate to wear to dinner. She didn't know how to act in polite company, wasn't even sure of the correct cutlery to use. She was more used to being the waiting staff than being waited on. But, right now, she would have agreed to travel to the ninth circle of hell, if it meant she could go to the concert.

So she glanced up at him, flashing him a cheeky grin as she replied.

"Okay, Henry Higgins, dinner it is. Do your worst."

* * *

**A/N Thank you to SunflowerFran for BETAing and Cutestkidsmom's and Sparrownotes24 for pre-reading.  
**

**And thanks to you all, for reading, reviewing and recommending. Next chapter will be up in the week. I post teasers to reviews, and also on The Fictionators website. And fit would great to see you on twitter, or Facebook - links are on my profile page.**

**Chocaholic xx**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**December 2000**

Edward watched as Bella managed to charm her way into the Mercury Lounge, despite having no valid ID, and clearly being underage. He couldn't help but be impressed by the way she played the security staff; with her engaging banter, sweet smiles and tales of being an English journalist.

She flicked her dark brown hair over her shoulder as she talked, biting at her lip as she smiled up at the bouncer. He could see the guy looking her over, his eyes dilating as he took in her tight black band t-shirt, and the hip hugging jeans that she was wearing, with a glimpse of skin showing just above them.

She was like a fresh wind blowing through the Lower East Side.

"Are you coming?" She turned around to Edward, her cheeks flushed with cold, her eyes sparkling under the lights of the entrance.

"Right behind you."

Edward had never been to the Mercury Lounge before. Most concerts he'd been to had involved large arenas and even bigger ticket prices. From the looks of this bar, he was pretty sure there would be no reserved seating.

Following Bella into the main music area, all of his senses were attacked by the atmosphere; the cacophony of the crowd, the smoky smell of the air circulating the room, the feeling of the floor sticking to the soles of his feet as he walked. He could even taste the excitement in the room, as the throng of people milled about, waiting for the band to come on stage. There had to be at least three hundred people, all squashed in here together.

Glancing over to the stage, empty save for the drum kit and guitars, he took in the bare bricks of the back wall and the exposed black beams on the ceiling. Feeling Bella's body close to his, they made their way across the floor, to the front of the room.

"What is the band called again?" Edward asked, as Bella grabbed his hand to pull him further forward.

"The Strokes. They're a five piece garage band; lots of buzz going on about them." As she spoke, three members of the band walked onto the stage to a loud roar of applause from the audience. Edward could tell his ears were going to be ringing by the end of the evening. His t-shirt was already starting to feel moist. The wet heat of the room was even making Bella's hair frizz a little, though he thought that it looked good on her.

Glancing up at the stage, his eyebrows rose in surprise and he leaned in to whisper in Bella's ear.

"You know, I recognize at least two of the band members. They're prep-boys."

Bella's head whipped around to look at him, and he gave her a shit-eating smirk.

"Really?" She looked at him sceptically.

"Seriously, I recognize them from Dwight. Definitely prep-school boys."

"Just goes to show that even prep-boys can be reformed. So when do I get to see you in a band?"

Edward chuckled, and took a sip from his beer bottle. Bella looked on enviously. Without an ID, she was stuck with a coke.

"If you'd heard my singing voice you wouldn't have to ask."

As they spoke, the band was still wandering about the stage, doing last minute checks.

"So what are you going to do after graduating?" Bella asked.

"A couple of us are planning to move out to California. Eric and I have some plans for an internet start-up."

"Who's Eric?"

Another member of the band walked onto the stage to rapturous applause. Edward waited for the clapping and cheering to die down before he replied.

"Eric is one of my frat brothers."

"You're in a fraternity?" Bella looked like she was trying to contain a giggle.

Fortunately, any noise she made was obliterated by the opening chords of the first song. The crowd started moving, forcing Bella and Edward to move towards the stage. There was no resisting the surge pushing them, and Edward glanced at Bella in alarm, worried that she was going to get trampled in the rush.

Looking back at him, she grinned hugely, mouthing "Isn't this fantastic?"

Her cheeks had flushed a deep-pink color, and her lips were plump and glossy. She wasn't wearing much make-up—a contrast to the Bella he had met nearly a year ago—but nevertheless she looked stunning.

He noticed a few guys look at her, as she pushed her way past them. It was hard to keep the smug smile off his face when he saw their disappointment, once they realized she was with him.

He had to admit the band was good. As they launched into their opening track, it was as if they were casting a spell over the audience, bewitching them as they sang along and danced like crazy to the music.

The people behind him were still moving forward, pushing them towards the stage, dragging Edward and Bella apart from each other as the wave crashed towards the edge of the room. He held Bella's hand firmly, pulling her back towards him, then pushing her in front and circling his arms around her so he could keep her safe.

Or just keep her.

He was finding it hard to work out where to put his hands. Her waist seemed too familiar, too sexual. If he held on to her hips, and felt her behind against him again, he was pretty sure he would lose his mind. He settled on the relative safety of her upper arms, trying to keep the fabric of her t-shirt between his hands and her skin. But she was moving too much, grinding her body to the beat of the music.

He took a half-step backwards, removing his crotch from the danger zone. He didn't want to be accused of liking the band _that _much.

Bella turned her head, and tried to shout something to him, but the noise of the band, and the calls of the crowd, drowned her words out.

"What?" Two small lines formed in between his eyebrows as he tried to concentrate on her mouth.

"I said, I think this is my favorite song."

"What's it called?" They were still mouthing words at each other. To try and actually vocalize would have been futile.

"_Last Night_." She whipped her head around as the guitarists played the instrumental bridge, the discordant noise of the bassist's chords jarring against the melodic notes of the lead guitar. Then the lead singer started to sing again, his voice a deep echo as his lips moved closely against the microphone, his eyes closed as he sang the words.

The crowd was going absolutely wild; the fast tempo of the song leading them to jump up and down as one. Those who were unfortunate enough not to join in were starting to panic, as they felt themselves being dragged under. Edward moved his arms until they were tightly clutching Bella's waist. Suddenly he didn't care about his reaction to her body; he just wanted to keep her safe.

She leaned back into him, her hands clutching his arms as they moved together, submitting themselves to the will of the crowd.

It was electrifying.

. . .

Bella had only managed to grab a few minutes with the band at the end of the show. It was clear that they were on the cusp of something big, and there were other journalists there, also wanting to get their pound of flesh, and interview the group.

Afterwards, their Manager had pulled her aside, and put a demo CD in her hand, asking her if she could pass it on to an English record company on her return. Bella had greedily accepted the disc, and Edward smiled as he watched her clutch it to her chest, the high color of her cheeks betraying her excitement.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, glancing at his watch and realizing that it was nearly midnight. When he had picked Bella up earlier, he had promised Charles Swan that he wouldn't keep her out too late.

"Yes, I think so." She was still giddy, on a high from the stimulating atmosphere of the gig; he could feel her trembling as she stood next to him.

"I don't have to ask you if you liked them, then."

"I absolutely loved them. I can't wait to write about it. I just hope my article isn't too sycophantic," she breathed, as they walked side by side out of the hot, sweaty bar, and into the cold night.

Coming to an abrupt halt, they both noticed the change as soon as their feet hit the sidewalk.

At some point, during the time they were watching the band, New York had transformed itself into a Winter Wonderland.

The streets and cars were blanketed with a soft, fluffy layer of bright white snow, and the only blemish on the pale landscape were the black footprints of the revelers who had left the concert.

"It's snowing!" Bella's face was bright, her smile wide as she looked up to the sky and saw the over-sized flakes slowly floating their way down to the ground. "Oh my God, Edward! Look."

She reminded him of Alice with her child-like excitement, as she started to twirl around, her head still raised to the sky. He watched as she opened her mouth, poking her pink tongue out, trying to capture a snowflake on its surface.

"I noticed," he deadpanned. A lifetime of New York winters had somewhat inured him to the pleasures of a wintry storm.

"Aren't you excited? We can make snowmen, and snow angels. You might even get a snow day! Doesn't everything sound so much better if you put 'snow' in front of it?"

"Like snow-bound, or snow-blind?"

"It's like being in the most beautiful city in the world with Ebenezer Scrooge. Where's your enthusiasm?" She had pulled away from him, and was running her hands through the snow that had fallen on the wall adjacent to the club.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you. Perhaps the ghost of Christmas Past will help me mend my ways."

"Or maybe a snowball will help?" Her aim was magnificent, the cold ball hit him right in the chin, breaking on impact, the icy snow-dust falling down on to his neck and chin.

"I know what will help," he answered, running towards her, scooping some snow up with his hand from the wall as he approached her. "Getting my own back."

"No!" she squealed, trying to run away from him as he approached her menacingly, but only managing to slip and slide on the icy slabs. "Please don't!"

"I thought you said everything was better with snow in front of it?" He was pulling at the neck of her t-shirt now, trying to shove his handful of snow down it as she wriggled, and protested, and begged.

"I didn't mean it, please stop!" Her voice was a mixture of panic and giggles, the same sound that she made when she was tickled for too long. She grabbed hold of his wrist, moving it away from her chest and trying to make his hand release the snow.

And suddenly they were standing so close. Too close. He realized that every part of his body was in contact with hers. She was looking up at him, her face flushed with cold, her lips bright pink, slightly open as her eyes captured his.

He could see her chest moving up and down rapidly, and wondered if it was in reaction to him, or the threat of cold snow. He wasn't sure he cared.

Releasing the snow, he put his hand around the back of her head, moving her towards him until their lips were only inches away from each other. She continued to stare right at him—a challenging, defiant stare.

And then she closed the final gap.

Her lips were soft, and smooth, and cold against the warmer flesh of his own. He curled his free hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him, as he started to move against her, his head slightly angled, so his bottom lip brushed her top one.

He wasn't sure who opened their mouth first, but before he knew it, their tongues were touching; caressing, moving against each other, and the sensation went straight down to his dick. Despite the coldness of the air, and the wetness of the snow, he was suddenly feeling very hot.

"Edward," she murmured against his lips, the vibration of her voice causing his breath to hitch.

"Mmm." His mouth was still moving against hers, his tongue touching her plump bottom lip, his body reacting to the sensation of her kiss.

She pulled back from him, and suddenly things felt weird. He shook his head slightly, not really knowing where to go from here.

He really hadn't thought this through.

"Edward, I need to get home before my father sends out a hunting party."

He flashed her a smile, taking her hand firmly in his own and they walked down the street to hail a cab. He still wasn't sure what had just happened, wasn't sure if he wanted to know. But there was still a grin on her face that mirrored his own, and that was enough for now.

. . .

After dropping Bella off, he decided to sleep at the townhouse, rather than make the journey uptown to his dorm. He figured it would give him a chance to pick up a clean suit to wear the following evening, when he was planning to take Bella out for dinner.

The lights were still blazing in the Black household; both William and Elizabeth were night owls, and rarely retired to bed before the early hours of the morning. While his mother had the luxury of being able to lie in bed until late, William clearly just needed very little sleep.

Using his key to let himself in, Edward wandered through the hall to the drawing room, where he found his mother sitting in an easy chair, reading thick carded invitations, a glass of white wine in her free hand.

"Edward! Darling, what a lovely surprise." She placed her glass on a side table, neatly stacked the invitations, then rose up from her chair and walked over to him. She offered him her cheek, and he inclined his head to kiss her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I was in the area; I thought I'd sleep here tonight. I don't have a lecture until 11AM."

As she pulled back from their embrace, Elizabeth did a double take, suddenly taking in his appearance, realizing it was so different from his usual smart apparel.

"What on earth are you wearing, darling? What have you been doing in those things?" She flipped her red hair back over her shoulders, as she stared at him in consternation. His tight t-shirt and baggy dark-wash jeans were obviously not to his mother's taste.

"I was watching a band play in a bar, over on the lower east side."

The look on her face couldn't have been any more disgusted if he had confessed that he had been to watch a public execution. The words 'band' 'bar' and 'lower east side' were like an anathema to her.

"Why? Who were you with?"

"Isabella Swan." Somehow it made it sound better if he said her full name.

"Swan? Do I know her parents?" Always the same question. Usually the answer was 'yes'.

"She's Charles Swan's daughter."

Elizabeth stared up at him, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "But his daughters are only ten, darling, what on earth were you doing with them?"

Edward laughed out loud at the thought of taking Bella's sisters to the Mercury Lounge. From his brief glimpse of them when he picked Bella up earlier that evening, they would have turned their noses up in unison at the thought of being somewhere so gritty and down-to-earth.

"His other daughter, from his first marriage." Walking over to the drink cabinet, Edward poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. He had a feeling that this was going to be a long night. Why on earth had he decided to sleep here again?

"Renee's daughter?" The tone of Elizabeth's voice was derisory, as she made her feelings towards Bella's mother abundantly clear. "Now there was a woman who didn't know how to conduct herself. My God, poor Charles, she was such an embarrassment to him. We all breathed a sigh of relief when she flew back to England. I'm pretty sure Charles did too."

"You knew her well?" Edward asked sceptically. His mother seemed to 'know' everybody.

"We sat on some of the same committees. She was forever turning up late, or not at all. And the clothes she wore, oh my goodness, they were so inappropriate."

Edward took another sip of whiskey, not really sure what to say to his mother. She was on a roll now, and he let himself fall back on to the sofa, deciding that if he had to listen to her tirade, he may as well do it in comfort.

"So what is her daughter like? Does she take after Charles or Renee?" Elizabeth asked.

There was nothing left but to swallow the lot; Edward tipped his head back and let the harsh amber fluid slide down his throat, feeling it burn as it went down.

"I'm not sure she's like either of them. She's an original." He was wracking his brain to think of a suitable way to divert his mother. He wasn't sure he liked where this conversation was headed. "Where's William tonight?"

"He and Jacob went out for dinner. William wanted to do the father-son thing; Jacob has been in a lot of trouble at school. He wants to stage an intervention."

"Trouble?" Edward seized upon his mother's tangent.

"He's been cutting lessons. His GPA is reaching rock bottom. It's going to take a lot of funding to get him into Columbia."

Funding meant bribery. William Black usually got what he wanted, even if he had to grease the wheels a little first. Edward was relieved that his own acceptance to Columbia had required no such help from his stepfather.

Not that he was surprised to hear about Jake's troubles; the kid was a walking disaster. He was a boy with a sizable drug habit, and an even bigger bank balance. With such unlimited access to funds, the only intervention that Edward could see working would be to cut him off without a dime.

Elizabeth had picked up the pile of cards she had discarded earlier, and was sifting through them, sorting them into three separate piles as she went, taking only a moment to consider each one before assigning it to a stack.

"Darling, we've been invited to Henry Clearwater's wedding in October. Are you going to be around?"

Edward sighed. They'd had this conversation so many times, but every time he tried to explain to Elizabeth, she cut him off; telling him that she didn't want to hear it.

"No, Mother. I'm planning to have moved out to San Francisco by then."

The tightness of her lips as she glanced over at him made him want to roll his eyes.

"William really wants you to join him at Black Enterprises. You've got a guaranteed job there, and maybe one day, you could take the helm." Her voice was clipped, her tone disapproving.

"Black Enterprises is all Jacob's, Mother, and you know I have no interest in working there." Edward fought the urge to shake some sense into her. "Eric and I have set everything up. We're moving out there next September."

Elizabeth shook her head and went back to her invitations. Edward stood up, and placed his glass on the side for Maria to clear up in the morning. Rolling his shoulders to loosen the taut muscles, he dipped to kiss his mother's cheek before making his way up to bed.

It would appear that the conversation was over. At least for now.

Walking up the stairs, the smell of smoke wafted up from his t-shirt, reminding him he needed to take a shower before he went to bed. Reaching the landing, he remembered the way Bella's lips had felt against his, the softness of her skin as he had caressed her, the way the touch of her tongue made him hard.

And now he really needed that shower.

* * *

**A/N - Thank you so much to SunflowerFran for beta'ing, and to SparrowNotes24 and Cutestkidsmom for their excellent pre-reading skills.**

**Thank YOU for all your reviews - I love reading them, though I know I failed to respond to all of them this time - I'm so sorry. Just know that I read and loved every single one.  
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**If you fancy a chat, come see me on twitter and Facebook, (links on my profile). I try to post photo teasers there too, just to let you know how I imagine the characters. Oh, and I have a new WordPress account - just in case any of my stories get pulled ;)  
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******Thanks for reading, have a great week. Chocaholic xx**  



	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**December 2000**

God he was beautiful. How on earth had she forgotten how good looking Edward Cullen was in such a short period? Although Bella had only seen him last night, her mind had somehow downgraded his appeal, making her feel like he was somewhere within her league. But he was so far beyond it, that she felt the inappropriate need to laugh at herself gurgling deep in the pit of her belly. She wanted to slap herself for being such an over-optimistic fool.

Taking a deep breath, she walked into the cream and red sitting room, her eyes barely taking in the gilt-framed paintings or the luxurious, overly-long, velvet curtains that were pooling on the floor, framing the large picture window. Her father and stepmother were already there, talking to Edward as he sat across from them on the over-stuffed armchair, their faces animated as they listened to him, hanging on his every word. Then, upon hearing her enter, their heads all whipped around to look at Bella.

Charles looked surprised, and perhaps a little proud.

Irina looked shocked.

And Edward just looked. And looked.

He stood up, walking over to her, a huge grin covering his face. "That dress..."

Bella raised her eyebrows as he came to a standstill in front of her. She wasn't used to wearing such expensive clothing. Having endured a couple of hours in the company of a Saks Fifth Avenue personal shopper, she had managed to escape with a beautiful black jersey sheath dress, and a pair of impossibly high Jimmy Choos. Although just looking at the total cost being added to her father's store card, had been enough to give her a conniption fit.

But it was worth it, just to see the expression on Edward's face.

"Thank you." She decided to put him out of his misery. She'd save the teasing for later.

"Well, it was nice to meet you Edward." Charles stood up and shook his hand. "Look after my girl."

"Of course, Sir. It was good to meet you, too."

As soon as they turned the corner into the hallway, Edward curled his arm around Bella's waist. "Do you have a coat? It's freezing out there."

Her heart fell. Of course she should have a coat—an elegant, appropriate dress coat—but the thought hadn't even occurred to her.

"I'll be fine." She gave a small shrug, and walked to the door, only noticing that Edward wasn't following when she undid the latch and pulled it open. She turned around to see him taking his own coat off, and holding the black woollen overcoat out to her.

"Have this. I don't really need it anyway."

His kindness was slaying her. Not to mention the way he looked in his suit. Bella found herself unable to speak, while he placed the coat around her shoulders, holding on to them for a moment longer than was necessary. Another deep breath was needed, and she was suddenly glad that air was free; otherwise tonight it would be bankrupting her.

The restaurant was a short cab ride away in Midtown, only a few blocks away from Central Park. Bella and Edward spoke very little in the car, although every time she glanced across at him, he seemed to be staring straight at her legs. Suppressing a smile, she slowly uncrossed them, and then pushed them gently against his thighs.

He let out an audible sigh.

She was aware that she was playing with fire, and she knew she was going to get burned. There was no possible way this was going to end well. But the way he was looking at her made her heart beat faster than it should, and her skin tingle and fizz, like she was lying in a bath full of Coca Cola. It was all she could do not to throw herself at him.

When they pulled up outside the restaurant, Edward got out of the cab first, holding his hand out to Bella, to help her get out and on to the sidewalk. It was impossible to be elegant in her thigh-length dress and four-inch heels, although she did her best to exit the taxi without baring all to the Manhattan elite. It didn't stop Edward from glancing down as she moved, though.

Keeping hold of her hand, he pulled her towards him so that she was in his arms. He cupped her cheek with his hand, angling her head, before he leaned in towards her. His face was so close to hers that her sight was flooded with the image of green irises, obscured by long thick lashes as he lazily blinked and bided his time.

"I've wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you in that dress," he murmured, before brushing his lips across hers in a gentle movement, his soft breath dancing across her mouth as he sighed. "And it's nice to be able to do it without getting a sore neck."

"Keep talking like that and a sore neck will be the least of your worries." Bella felt a weight lift off her shoulders as they resumed their normal banter. Feeling happy and back in her comfort zone, she allowed him to steer her towards the entrance, as his hand rested in the small of her back.

Walking through the main door, she found herself squeezing his hand in nervousness. The restaurant was warm and inviting—the muted lighting and the warm wooden vaulted ceiling served to make the whole room seem cozy and exclusive. As she looked at the tables, she could see that the room was very full, and the few empty tables were beautifully laid with crisp white tablecloths. A myriad of glassware and simple orchid centre-pieces only added to the elegantly luxurious ambiance.

The waiter handed them each a leather-bound menu, and then gave Edward the wine list. Bella smiled wistfully, wishing that they were back in England where she could legally drink as much alcohol as she damn well pleased.

Trying to shake the image of an ice cold glass of chardonnay out of her mind, she opened her menu. The options were written in swirling black script; the descriptions designed to make her mouth water. But as she glanced down the page, she realized something important was missing.

"There are no prices in here," she said in confusion, as she looked up at Edward.

"Just order what you want."

"I want whatever's cheapest," she complained, frowning as she scanned the menu once again. "I don't want to spend a month's rent on my dinner."

"I'm paying, Bella," he replied, smiling at her, as if to soften the blow of his words.

"I'd rather split the bill." Bella sat up straight, feeling herself start to bristle.

Edward put the menu down and caught her eye, his expression quizzical. "Let me pay. I chose the restaurant, and I have the resources. It isn't a big deal."

It is to me, Bella thought, as she looked back down at the menu again. Swallowing her pride, she nodded slightly, agreeing to his offer. "Okay, but next time you're in England, I promise to treat you to a portion of chips."

The food they ordered was delicious. Bella couldn't help but smile as she saw the small, beautifully prepared portions being placed in front of her; certain that she wouldn't be leaving much behind on her plate. Edward's food looked equally as delectable, and it was hard to resist snatching little morsels from his plate as he ate, even though he frowned as he watched her spearing his last potato.

"You're going to owe me a lot more than a portion of chips at this rate."

"If you're really lucky I might throw in a pickled egg, too. Or some curry sauce." Bella laughed as his nose curled up in disgust, and speared a piece of her own entrée, lifting it to his mouth for a taste. "Is that better?"

The intimacy of her action wasn't lost on her, as she watched him circle his lips around the lamb, and pull it off with his teeth. She could feel her whole body reacting to him. She wasn't sure that she was entirely comfortable with the strength of it, either.

Opening her mouth to make a stupid quip, she sensed, rather than felt, somebody standing closely behind her. Feeling almost angry at the sudden interruption, she turned her head to see who it was.

"Edward Cullen." The voice was mellow and smooth, and Bella watched as the woman behind it walked around the table, leaning down to brush her lips against Edward's. Edward pulled out his chair, the wooden legs scraping against the floor audibly, as he stood up to greet her.

"Tanya." Edward's voice was strained as the woman continued to keep her face close to his, her hands cupping his cheeks as she leaned against him. Bella could feel herself bristling; did the woman not see that Edward was with someone?

"I'm so happy to see you. I was just telling the others that we have to get you to join us in Cabo for Spring Break. Michael Newton has found a fantastic hacienda overlooking the beach." Tanya's voice lowered slightly, and she glanced quickly at Bella before continuing. "Maybe we could halve the cost and share a bedroom?"

Bella could feel a nagging pain tugging at her belly. As she looked at the two of them standing together, her heart began to beat erratically. It was hard to tear her eyes away from their well-groomed exteriors, which were only matched by their internal sense of belonging and entitlement. They were beautiful, like a modern-day JFK Jr and Carolyn Bisset. And as she continued to stare, Bella suddenly realized that it wasn't Tanya that was the interloper.

It was Bella herself.

"Tanya, this is Bella Swan, Bella, this is Tanya Denali, a friend of the family." Edward emphasized the word 'friend', although from the way that Tanya was looking at him, Bella just knew that there was more to them than that.

"Hello." Tanya turned to look at Bella, her eyes flickering over her dismissively, as if she wasn't even deserving of a second glance. Her nose wrinkled slightly as her stare reached Bella's make-up and hair.

"Pleased to meet you."

"Oh, are you from England?" Even when asking a question, Tanya sounded bored with Bella. She turned back to look at Edward, as if she had been polite for long enough.

"Bella's from London. She's an old friend."

"Well, that's really kind of you to take her out. I know you've always been fond of children." Tanya leaned in and whispered in Edward's ear. It was like a stage-whisper, or an aside. It was certainly loud enough for Bella to hear. "When you're done with babysitting, call me and I'll remind you what a real woman can do."

Edward visibly flinched at Tanya's words, and pulled back from her. He glanced over at Bella, and clocked her appalled expression.

"I don't think so, Tanya."

"You'll call. You always do." She leaned in and kissed him again, ignoring his pained expression. "I must go and re-join my party. I'll see you very soon Edward. And Betty, it was a real pleasure." With a wave of her hand, she seemed to glide over to the other side of the room, where a large, noisy, beautiful crowd of people were seated around a table.

Edward sat back down in his chair, picking up his now-warm glass of white wine and swallowing the final dregs. Bella remained silent, waiting for him to explain, to tell her that Tanya was just a friend and that Bella had completely misunderstood.

But he didn't say a word.

The silence lay heavily between them. Glancing around the room in an attempt to distract herself, she looked over at Tanya's table. Her party was full of twenty-somethings, all beautifully turned out, with perfect hair and perfect bodies. The realization that she wasn't a part of this world, hit her like a punch to the stomach.

"Are you okay?" Edward's voice was thick and strained, as if it was trying to force its way through the leaden atmosphere that had developed between them.

"Yes."

"No you're not. Let's get out of here." He signalled to the waiter to bring over the check, and settled it without delay. Bella found herself feeling grateful for his quick action, and watched as he placed a number of folded notes into the black leather wallet, and closed it with a snap.

They left without saying goodbye to Tanya or her friends. Pushing their way through the double glass doors, Bella found herself raising her head to the sky as she breathed in the crisply cold New York air. Never in her life had she felt so pleased to be leaving a restaurant before the dessert course.

"Well, that was less than successful." Edward once again draped his coat around her shoulders, buttoning up his own jacket against the cold New York air. "Did you want to go on somewhere?"

"I'm pretty tired. I think I want to go home." She was unable to shake off the funk that his conversation with Tanya had brought on. It lay upon her shoulders like a dark, heavy blanket.

"Are you sure?" He stopped walking, pulling her around to face him. Cupping her face with his hands, he stared closely at her, his forehead dipping into a frown.

"Edward." She wasn't sure what to say to him; how to make things clear, and keep a friendship at the same time. She could feel the rich lamb she had eaten earlier, like a ball of lead in her stomach.

"Bella, Did I do something wrong? Did Tanya upset you?"

"No, it's nothing. I just—." She stopped talking, and tried to assemble her thoughts into a cohesive pattern. "I've had such a good time with you these past few days, and I've loved our emails and the letters you sent me. But I don't want anything to be ruined."

She pulled her lip between her teeth, worrying the skin as she looked up at him. Edward let out an audible sigh, his expression turning blank as he processed her words. Bella felt the beginnings of a headache start to stab at her brain.

"I don't understand what you mean?" She watched as he frowned in confusion, three little vertical lines forming between his eyebrows.

Bella sighed. She felt so stupid, throwing herself at him one moment, and then withdrawing from him the next. She was confusing herself; no wonder _he_ didn't understand her. How could she possibly tell him that she found his environment stifling; that seeing Tanya Denali brush her lips against his brought out all the worst feelings inside of Bella.

Because to compare the two of them, was like comparing the Sun to a piece of debris floating in the atmosphere. Where Tanya shone, Bella just drifted.

"Edward, this has been so lovely. Last night at the concert. The snow. The kisses." She blushed as she said the last words. "But it's kind of like a holiday romance. It could never last. I have to go home tomorrow."

Edward's green eyes pierced her own, as he remained silent, the gentle breeze of his exhalations dancing across her skin. Then she felt his fingers slowly release her face, as he withdrew from her, his hands raking through his hair as he stepped back.

"Let's just walk for a little while." He wrapped his long fingers around her own, and she found herself struggling to keep up with him, thanks to her stupidly high heels. Edward glanced in amusement at the way she tottered, her long legs bearing an uncanny resemblance to those of a new-born giraffe in as they moved and jerked.

"Or maybe not?" She suggested, as she realized she wouldn't be able to make it much further.

He opened his mouth to answer, but any words were drowned out by a loud ring tone. Bella's heart leapt in response to the unexpected noise; she hadn't even realized that Edward owned a cell phone.

"Hello?" He flipped the mouthpiece down and talked into it, his eyes still watching Bella warily, as if he was afraid she was going to run.

The voice on the other end was muffled and tinny, and despite her best eavesdropping, Bella couldn't hear a thing. But she did notice as Edward's expression turned from confusion into anger, his eyebrows drawing together as his face reddened.

"What now?" His voice was terse and sharp, and Bella found herself drawing away from him in response. He shook his head a little, putting his hand around her waist to draw her back against him.

Somehow his reaction comforted her.

"For God's sake, will he ever learn? Look, tell him I'll be over in thirty minutes. And he'd better not be comatose by then." Flipping the phone closed, he looked up at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in a wry smile. "My step-brother seems to have drunk himself into oblivion. Again."

"Oh no. Where is he?" She was still hyper-aware of his arm around her waist, his hand clasping her hip through the sheer material of her dress.

"He's in a bad part of town. I need to go and pick him up before he gets into more trouble."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Edward laughed harshly. "I couldn't ask you to go there. I'll drop you off on the way."

"What if you need help?"

"Bella, in all honesty, you'd be a liability in that dress. I'd be too worried about you getting mauled, just to help Jake."

She glanced down, taking in the high hemline and figure hugging qualities of her attire, realizing that he was right. And anyway, what help could she possibly give when she was wearing these goddamned stupid shoes?

So she followed him into the cab he had hailed, sitting down on the cool PVC seat, curling her bare legs up to the side of her as she did so. He didn't look at her as they moved, the tightness of his jaw indicating that he was trying to restrain his anger at the situation with his step-brother. Bella felt the urge to wrap her fingers around his chin and force him to face her, to tell her what he was really feeling.

Edward continued to look out of the window, over at the buildings on the other side of the street. Without glancing across at her, he started to speak. "You know, Bella, one day, some guy is going to come along and sweep you off your feet. And when he does, he'll be the luckiest son-of-a-bitch alive. You're funny, you're kind, and you know how to survive a mosh pit. You're a perfect catch."

Bella gave a watery smile. And though she didn't feel like it, she tried to lighten the mood, making a joke of the situation. "High praise indeed, especially from the guy who thinks slumming it means crossing the Brooklyn Bridge."

"I was never slumming it with you." He moved his body along the seat until his leg was touching hers. "And when that lucky guy comes along, I'm going to want to kick the shit out of him."

His physical proximity caused Bella to shiver, despite the warmth of his woollen coat.

"I think physical violence might be a bit much," she murmured, her lip feeling tender as she continued to bite at it.

"I guess I'll try to rein it in."

And just like that, she had the horrible nagging feeling that things were over. Their brief encounter was done, and she would be returning home none the wiser about where their relationship stood.

And as much as she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to ask him how he felt.

She was afraid of what his answer would be.

* * *

**A/N - Many thanks to SunflowerFran for beta'ing, and to SparrowNotes24 and Cutestkidsmom for being such great pre-readers, and friends.  
**

**And all the hugs in the world to you, for reading, reviewing and recommending.  
**

**If you fancy a chat, come see me on twitter and Facebook, (links on my profile). I try to post photo teasers there too, just to let you know how I imagine the characters. Oh, and I have a new WordPress account - just in case any of my stories get pulled ;)  
**

******Thanks for reading, have a great weekend. **


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9  
**

**24****th**** May 2001**

Throwing the magazine on the bed, Bella felt a surge of rage crash over her body; her blood rushing straight to her skin, and her hands cramping with the urge to launch something—anything—at the wall, just to see it break.

It had been a hideous week. She'd had very little sleep, she was so behind on her coursework that her tutors were beginning to murmur about academic suspension, and her end-of-term exams were coming up in the next few weeks. As well as that, she'd had a phone call from Alice, who had been asked to her school disco by a boy, only to discover that he was doing it for a bet. Bella had been unable to soothe her young friend, and had eventually resorted to calling Edward, and asking him for advice.

And now, to top it all off, Tyler-fucking-Crowley had cut her article to shreds, and put it somewhere to the back of the magazine. She wanted to rip his throat out and feed it to the ducks, swimming in the University pond.

Pulling her shoes on, she stomped out of her room and down the stairs, ignoring the interested looks from her fellow students as she pushed past them, making her way to the door. She was a girl on a mission. A Tyler-fucking-Crowley, gutting mission.

There was a soft mist of rain in the air, enough to moisten the pavement, but not enough to warrant carrying an umbrella. It was the worst of both worlds, and usually resulted in Bella's hair turning frizzy and untameable. She couldn't bring herself to care right now. Perhaps the harridan look was exactly what she needed to scare Tyler out of his wits.

The magazine office was its normal bustling self, people shouting into the mouthpiece of their telephones, screaming at their slow computers, and the occasional ball of paper being thrown across the room in a disorganized game of paper-toss.

Ignoring the greetings of her friends, she stalked straight across the floor to the closed door of the editor's office. She curled her hand around the stainless steel handle and twisted it sharply, pulling the door towards her in a jerking movement, causing it to bang against the wall, making everyone turn to look at her.

Tyler was sitting on the corner of his desk, talking to Angela, the pictures editor, who was going through a portfolio of photographs with him.

"Bella, I wasn't expecting you. Can this wait?" It wasn't really a question, but a command. One she decided to ignore.

"It can't wait. Would you excuse us, Angela?" It was all she could do to keep her tone civil, even with Angela who had never done anything to inflame Bella's ire.

"Bella?" Tyler's words were both a question and a reprimand. She fully expected him to shout her down, to give her hell for even questioning his judgement. She welcomed it.

"I need to talk to you now." Her copy of the magazine was rolled up in her hands, and she shook it at Tyler. She could see him looking at it, and then raising his eyes up to her face. Did he think she intended to use it as a weapon?

"Can you give us a minute please Angela?" Tyler asked with a sigh.

"Sure, no problem." Angela seemed to gather all her photographs up at top speed, she was clearly eager to get out of the room and away from the toxic atmosphere.

Tyler remained silent as he watched Angela leave, closing the door gently behind her. It was a genteel exit—in stark contrast to Bella's arrival.

Suddenly Bella felt nervous. She and Tyler had been dancing around each other all semester, although the promise of 'doing something about this' had seemed to evaporate over the Christmas break. And now he was staring at her through narrowed eyes, his response to her angry entrance already visceral.

"Perhaps you'd like to tell me why the hell I should listen to anything you have to say after that performance?"

"I don't expect anything from you. You clearly don't even have the guts to tell me when you've edited my articles to shreds. I thought you had more class than that," she spat, throwing the magazine on his desk, narrowly missing his thigh as she did so.

"Your article was crap. There were typos, grammatical errors, and worst of all, it bored me."

It was like a punch to the stomach. Her reaction was to fight back.

"It was a fucking good article. Perhaps you just don't know how to edit."

"Don't push me, Bella." He leaned towards her, his height dominating hers. She fought off the temptation to cower away. This was one fight she was determined to win.

"Then don't cut my fucking words. I've been working my ass off here, trying to get to gigs, write, articles, and avoid academic probation. You have no bloody right to criticize me and tear my work to shreds." Her heart was beating fast, fuelled by adrenaline and indignation. "And I'll push you if I want to." As if to demonstrate it, she poked her index finger into the middle of his chest, the thin material of his t-shirt wrinkling against the force.

Tyler grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. "You are sailing very close to the line. Stop acting like a child."

"Stop treating me like one," she hissed through gritted teeth.

Tyler didn't reply, just stood and stared her down, waiting for Bella's anger to subside. She could feel the tell-tale sting of angry tears pierce her eyes. She hated crying, and despised looking weak. He would think he'd won.

His face was impassive as he kept a strong grip on her, his fingers curled around her slender wrist, holding her still, and stopping her from pushing him any further.

"You calm?" he asked, looking down at her.

"Calmer. No, scratch that, I'm still pissed."

"That makes two of us. Perhaps you'd like to sit down and we can talk about this like adults. I think we've given the team out there enough of a show." He tugged her towards him, and she perched on the opposite corner of his desk, her body angling to the left as she moved to face him. Tyler put his head into his hands, raking his fingers through his own hair in frustration. Then, moving them down, he rubbed them hard against his eyes.

He looked tired, maybe even exhausted.

"How long is this going to go on, Bella?"

"What?" She was genuinely confused.

"Your constant criticism of me. You seem to think it's your God-given right to shout at me. If you hadn't noticed, _I'm _the editor, not you, and what I say goes."

"I just tell you what I think."

"If anybody else had done what you just did, they would have been out on their ass already. I don't take kindly to your questioning my authority."

Bella sat back, her throat swelling as she heard his words. She couldn't lose this job, it meant too much to her.

"Anybody else, why not me?" She wanted to kick herself for asking that.

Tyler closed his eyes and rubbed his face again. He let out a long sigh, an expression of aggravation covering his face as he looked at her though his lashes.

"Bella." He curled her name around his tongue like an opera singer. Her eyes opened wide with the sudden realization.

Before she could process the thought, his lips came crashing down on hers, his hand pulling at the hair on the back of her head, his whole body shaking violently. He was standing now, right in front of her, pulling her closer until her legs were wrapped around his waist, as she remained seated on the edge of his desk.

His pelvis was directly against hers, and she could feel he was hard already. She started to wonder whether he had been like that for a while—if he had been turned on by her extreme anger.

But then he opened his mouth and flicked his tongue against hers, and all thoughts flew out of the window. Bella curled her hand around the back of his head, her hands fisting in his sandy hair, trying to pull him ever closer so she could lose herself in him.

She was sitting, in her boss's office, grinding herself against his hard cock, and she couldn't even find it in herself to care. Although she did thank the Lord, that there were no windows out on to the main office.

Tyler moaned into her mouth, causing her legs to tremble as she tried to grind herself even harder. Inappropriate wasn't strong enough to describe the levels they had stooped to.

Breathless, Tyler moved his head back slightly, gasping for air as he stared down at her.

"Shit," she breathed.

"Yes, shit."

Her heart was thumping harder now. She wanted to reach out and rearrange his sandy hair, move it out of his eyes so she could see their piercing blueness. His light-grey t-shirt was lopsided on his body, exposing the right hand side of his shoulder, and the light hair covering the base of his throat. She felt the sudden urge to touch it.

"This is all a bit _Woman of the Year_ isn't it?" Bella observed, when she had taken enough air in to be able to function.

"A bit what?" His brows dipped in confusion.

"It's a film, starring Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn. They're feuding journalists who eventually get marri—." Bella stopped suddenly, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. She looked down at the floor, avoiding his gaze and mumbled, "It doesn't matter."

Tyler let out a short laugh, his cheeks puffing up in amusement. "Bella, how can you annoy the shit out of me in one moment, then make me laugh like a loon the next?"

"Pure talent." She managed to look up from her feet, and give him a small smile. "It's one of my many amazing attributes."

"It would certainly seem to be. And for the record, I think you are a hugely talented journalist, and I have no doubt you'll go far. But you need to be able to listen to constructive criticism without being a bitch."

"I know." It was her turn to rake her fingers through her own hair in aggravation. "It's just that when I looked at the magazine I saw red. I wanted to rip your balls off."

"I left you a note on your desk last week to tell you I'd edited it down. Didn't you see it?"

"No, it must have slipped off my desk. Maybe next time you could tell me face to face?"

"If I promise, will you let me kiss you again?"

"If I let you kiss me again, will you give me the front page?"

"No."

"Ah, sod it. It was worth a try though." She grinned impishly at him, the open delight on her face causing him to lean in towards her and press his mouth against hers. She closed her eyes, her lips moving against his, feeling his hand as it came up to cup her cheek, the tip of his tongue running along her lips until she parted them, inviting him in.

His other hand moved to her neck, stroking down to her shoulders, then running his index finger down her spine, making her body shiver at his touch. She let out a soft moan against his mouth, causing him to increase the pressure of his lips and his tongue until she couldn't think straight any more.

The contrast between their violent first kiss, and the gentle sensuality of this second one struck Bella for the moment. She wasn't sure which one she preferred. She was pleased she didn't have to make a choice.

. . .

When Bella went to the library later that day, ostensibly to finish her overdue assignments, she logged on to her account to find that there were a few new emails in her inbox, patiently awaiting the click of her mouse.

Two of them were offering her a larger penis—a tempting thought but one that she sadly put out of her mind—and the last one was from Edward Cullen.

Just seeing his name on her screen made her feel conflicted. They had agreed to just be friends, and there was nothing romantic between them, at least nothing either of them would acknowledge.

So why did she feel so guilty?

She hadn't seen Edward since her visit to New York last December, although he still sent her the occasional letter, and responded to her emails. Occasionally his amiability seemed forced—making Bella wonder if he was having issues at home. When she was in New York, he had confided that his mother didn't want him to move to California, and was doing her best to make him stay in Manhattan and work at Black Enterprises. Maybe his family problems were impacting him more than she realized.

Shaking her head, she clicked on the email to open it up.

**_From: __EACullen_**

**_To: __IMSwan_**

**_Subject: Alice in Chains_**

_Hey you,_

_Thanks for the heads up about Alice. I spoke to her this morning, and apparently young David Keneally is forgiven, and she may just have reinstated her crush on him. I have done everything I can to cancel the hit I put out on him, but am not hopeful. The mob, as you know, walk to the beat of their own drum._

_In other news, she somehow managed to persuade me to be in England for her first day of High School. So I plan to visit at the very start of September, will you still be in London then? I anticipate the whole of that month will be spent up in the air somewhere—with my visit to London, my imminent move to San Francisco, and the fact that my stepbrother will no doubt be in some exclusive drying-out clinic somewhere on the mainland USA. _

_At least I'll rack up the air miles._

_How are you? You sounded harassed when you called. _

_Edward._

.

**_From: __IMSwan_**

**_To: __EACullen_**

**_Subject: The Godfather_**

_Glad to hear you've been putting your mafia contacts to good use, though I believe the taking out of an eleven year old boy may be frowned upon in Kensington. Perhaps a horse's head would suffice? _

_I've been having a crap week, culminating in me bursting into my editor's office and screaming at him like a wailing banshee. Sometimes my professionalism astounds even me. _

_Next week I'm planning to tone things down and just strip naked and walk through the University Quad. Much less embarrassing._

_And I plan to be in London until early October, so will definitely be around for the grand premiere of Miss Alice Cullen._

_I miss you._

_Bella._

She looked at her final words for a long time, before finally hitting the 'send' button. Then before she could think twice, she logged off her account, and walked resolutely to her reserved study carrel in the upper section of the library, determined to knuckle down and finally finish the work she should have handed in weeks ago.

It was hard to concentrate though, with thoughts of Tyler Crowley running through her head. They'd spent half an hour making out in his office, until Angela eventually got fed up of waiting for him and started to bang on his door.

Having made hurried arrangements to meet that night, at a pub near Tyler's off-campus apartment, Bella had walked out of his door, trying to avoid the knowing stares of her friends and work mates as they took in her flushed face, messed up hair and dishevelled clothing.

She even managed to ignore Angela's muttering of 'Thank fuck for that, the UST was getting unbearable in here."

Bella wondered if she should even tell Edward about Tyler. Where did the boundaries in their relationship lie? If they were just friends, as they'd agreed to be, wouldn't it be natural for her to tell him about this development in her life?

But how to do it without it looking like she was trying to make him jealous, or rub his nose in it? Oh God, why did things have to be so complicated?

Anyway, who was to say that he hadn't already moved on and met somebody else? He could have been living with someone else for all she knew. He rarely, if ever, mentioned his love life, and she found it hard to imagine that he was living the life of a saint.

Opening her first text, she took her favorite pen out from her purse and began to make notes on her jotter. She needed to write a critical analysis of the poem 'Ode to a Grecian Urn' By John Keats. Just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine. Funny how she could churn out a huge word count without blinking if she was talking about a concert, or a new cd, yet to do the same in relation to a neo-classical poet, was like trying to scale Mount Everest; virtually impossible.

A couple of hours, and a stiff neck, later, Bella took a break and walked down to the Library coffee shop. As she drank her tea, she decided to check if Edward had responded to her latest email.

.

**_From: __EACullen_**

**_To: __IMSwan_**

**_Subject: Bella and the Banshees_**

_Bella,_

_I'd pay good money to see your naked quad walk. Could you delay it until September? I'm told the weather is quite temperate then, and a possible location change to Trafalgar Square could ensure a larger audience. Just a thought._

_I'm already feeling sorry for your poor editor. Even when calm, you are a force to be reckoned with, I'd hate to think just how imposing you are when angry. I can just picture you running in there, all guns blazing. How did he react?_

_Edward._

.

She barely even thought it through before she typed out her reply.

.

**_From: __IMSwan_**

**_To: __EACullen_**

**_Subject: Erm Yeah._**

_He kissed me._

_Bella._

She regretted it as soon as she pressed the 'send' button, her heart dropping into her stomach as she saw the message disappear, no doubt finding a sweet spot on the information super-highway to reach Columbia as fast as it could.

She'd tried to recall emails before and failed. The university system had notoriously poor functionality—as she'd discovered two months previously when she had tried to recall an email she'd sent to her father by mistake. He hadn't been too impressed by her tirade against Irina's vapid outlook on life.

And now her brain explosion was on its way to Edward. She'd wanted to inform him in casual way, almost as an aside, so he wouldn't think anything of it. Instead she appeared to have just made a big fool of herself. Once again, her inability to self-censor amazed even Bella. Perhaps one day she'd learn to take a breath first.

* * *

**A/N Many thanks for all your reviews, I really appreciate each and every one. And lots of hugs to my beautiful Beta - SunflowerFran, and to Cutestkidsmom and SparrowNotes24 for being such supportive pre-readers. You guys rock.**


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**3****rd**** September 2001**

She could tell it was early from the quality of the light streaming through the thin curtains covering the windows. Her eyes were only half-open, and she wondered if she had time enough to go back to sleep again. If only she could be bothered to turn her head, she would be able to find out the time. Instead she allowed her eyelids to close, her mind chasing sleep until Tyler's insistent fingers began to brush firmly against her breasts, causing her body to awaken even if her brain was left behind.

"Mmm." Bella refused to open her eyes fully, even though part of her wanted to see his sandy hair falling in his eyes, as his lips wrapped around her nipple, his tongue bathing and teeth grazing as it hardened in response to his touch.

"Did I wake you?"

"Still asleep." She smiled as she answered him, knowing she had given herself away.

"Pretend this is just a dream then, a really nice dream." His lips were moving downwards, and she found herself fisting the bed sheets, as her body responded to his touch.

Nice as it was, this was definitely no dream.

They had spent the whole summer together, traveling around the country to attend different gigs and music festivals. In late August they returned to London, where Tyler was due to start working at _The Guardian_ as a trainee journalist, and moved into his dingy flat. With the heat of the sun and endless, lazy days stretched out before them, they'd had a fantastic summer—it was almost as much fun as she'd had the previous year in the Cotswolds, with Edward and Alice.

She was going to miss him at University though, and the newly appointed Editor of _Impact_—David Johnson—wasn't anywhere near as good looking or sexily angry as Tyler. When she'd told her boyfriend this, he had breathed out a huge sigh, and muttered, "thank God."

"I have to get up, baby. I need to be in the office by eight. I'm shadowing some guy who is traveling around some farms, trying to write an article on Foot and Mouth disease. It's a glamorous job."

"Are you wearing Wellington boots? Can I call you Farmer Brown?" Bella smiled at the thought of suave Tyler having to wallow through mud and interview farmers about their Foot and Mouth experiences. The disease had ravaged farms all across the country, culminating in a mass cull of animals. Even Bella had cried when she had seen the images of carcasses stacked in huge piles and being burned. She'd found it hard to get out of her mind for a long time.

"No and no. But you can get down and dirty with me when I get home tonight." Tyler wandered into the shower, and Bella sat up in his bed, finally looking over at his alarm clock.

6:30 AM. For a student, especially a night owl student like Bella, waking up at this time was sacrilege. She was more likely to be going to bed, rather than getting up at this hour. And she realized that it was only a couple of years until she, too, would have to find herself a proper job, and get up at an ungodly time of the day.

"What have you got planned today?" Tyler had emerged from the bathroom, a small white fluffy towel fastened around his hips. He hadn't bothered to dry himself properly, and Bella could feel her body react to the sight of him standing there with beads of water trailing down his smooth, toned chest.

"It's Alice's first day of school. I said I'd walk her there with Edward."

As soon as she said the name, the corner of Tyler's lips turned down with a scowl. She'd never told him that she had kissed Edward—and she wasn't sure why she hadn't—but when she introduced the two of them last Saturday, they'd seemed to take an instant dislike to each other. It made everything feel very awkward.

"What are you going to do for the rest of the day?"

Bella read his subtext. He was asking if she was going to spend the rest of the day with Edward. She swallowed hard, knowing just how much she wanted to spend time with her friend. Because ever since he'd arrived in England he'd been _her_ Edward again. Smiling and laughing, and constantly winding her up purposely, to provoke her snarky responses.

"I'm not sure yet. I've been sent a reading list for next year, so I really should go and pick up some books. And I said I'd go over to Mum's for tea."

"When will you be home?" His words were staccato now, and his frown even more pronounced.

Bella loved that he was jealous, and she loved even more that he was describing his pokey little one-bedroomed flat as her home. Feeling suddenly amorous, she flung the sheet away from her and ran over to him, throwing her arms around him as she felt her naked body crush against his, the droplets from his skin moistening her flesh.

"Whenever you want me." His hands grabbed hold of her behind, and crushed her against him. She could feel the tell-tale movement of his towel, as he reacted to her touch.

"I want you all the time, that's the problem. But some of us have to work for a living, so I'll be home by eight." He slapped her on the bottom, quite hard, and she squealed as he turned away, taking off his towel and pulling his boxers on.

"Okay, darling, I'll have your ironing done, your dinner in the oven and the children will be in bed. Would you like your pipe and slippers too?"

"Fuck the pipe and slippers."

"I'd rather you fucked me."

"Don't worry, I will." He was fully clothed now, and Bella was starting to shiver in reaction to the cool morning air. Tyler kissed her, and walked through the bedroom and out to the closet that he liked to call a kitchen. Watching his ass flex under his suit pants as he walked, she sighed and then climbed back in bed, smiling in relief as she felt her body start to warm under the covers.

. . .

As Bella entered the Cullen house, she could hear Alice squealing all the way up in her bedroom. Glancing around the main hallway, she could still feel herself bristle slightly at the opulence. You could fit three of Tyler's apartments into the space.

"Bella, you made it. Alice will be so pleased." Esme walked into the hall from the kitchen, her hands at her ear as she fastened a small pearl earring to her lobe. "And as you can hear, there's been no shortage of screaming going on this morning already."

"Is she excited?" Bella screwed her forehead up as she tried to recall her own first day at high school. From what she could remember, her stomach had been churning with a mixture of nervous excitement and fear. She couldn't recall which emotion had won the battle.

"So very excited, especially since both her brothers are here to accompany her to school. And her favorite friend, of course." Esme winked at Bella.

"Emmett is here?" Bella had never met Emmett, although she had heard tales of his giant stature, his laid back nature, and his ability to throw Alice high up to the ceiling.

"Yes, he arrived back last night. I'm afraid he hasn't had a chance to shave yet, so he looks a bit like the Wildman of the Andes."

A little giggle escaped Bella's mouth as she tried to imagine what he must look like. All the photos she had seen of Esme's son showed him as a tall, blonde, smiling boy. Clean shaven and all-American in his goodness.

And now, it would seem, he had turned into Chelsea's version of the abominable snowman. Suddenly she couldn't wait to meet him.

"Bella!" Alice had finally spotted her, and was running down the marble staircase, sometimes taking two steps at a time, leaving Bella fearing for her friend's leg-bones.

"Hey Alice." Bella caught her at the bottom and squeezed her tightly, evincing yet another squeal from the tiny girl. "Let me look at you." Pushing Alice back, Bella took in the plaid skirt and white blouse, the tie perfectly knotted at her neck. "You look fabulous. You're going to wow them all with that outfit."

Alice laughed. "Everyone will be wearing the same outfit, Bella. I don't think I'll impress them much."

"So this is the famous Bella."

She heard a loud voice coming from behind her. She hadn't even heard anybody walking down the stairs. Bella turned to see Edward standing there, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a dark-green t-shirt, and next to him was Emmett Cullen, son of Esme and adopted son of Carlisle.

He was even bigger than she had expected. It wasn't really his height—although he did tower over her—as much as the sheer size of him. He was bulky all over, and his hair and beard made him look older than his twenty-four years.

"Hi." She gave him a closed-mouthed smile, suddenly feeling shy under his scrutiny. And she was desperate to know what had made her so famous, in his opinion.

"Hey, you're as cute as Edward said you were." Emmett leaned forward and hugged her, his bristly beard chafing her skin as he leaned in to kiss her on the side of the mouth. "In fact, you're cuter."

"I'll tell Rosalie Hale." Alice sang. Bella's cheeks flushed in response to both his words, and Alice's threats to tell his girlfriend. She didn't know where to look.

Glancing up, she caught Edward staring at her bare legs, at the point where they met with her black shorts.

"See something you like?" Her lips twitched at her own words. She remembered him saying the same thing to her the first time they met, in this very hallway. Was that really nearly two years ago?

"I was just worried for your health. You appear to think that the English Summer warrants the type of clothes most people save for a beach in Hawaii. I don't want you to catch a chill." His voice was slow and sardonic.

"I hear that New York is so warm because of all the huge egos crammed in together. Maybe that's why you prefer it there?" Bella retorted, raising her eyebrows at him.

Emmett laughed loudly and clapped his hands. "I like her already."

"I do too." Edward murmured, making Bella blush yet again. Maybe London was getting hotter than Edward thought.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" Bella asked Alice, trying to change the subject. She was aware that she was still being scrutinized by both Cullen brothers, and was ignoring the fact that Emmett was whispering in Edward's ear.

"Yes, I was awake at five am. I couldn't sleep, I was too excited."

"I was awake at five too, thanks to you." Emmett lunged forward and grabbed at his sister, throwing her up and over his shoulders.

"I just…wanted…to check that you were…still there," Alice managed to gasp between giggles, as Emmett threw her around the room.

As she watched the Cullen clan clowning around with each other, Bella suddenly recalled her own awakening this morning, and the way that Tyler had ensured it was a memorable one. As nice as that was, a small part of her longed to belong to a family like this, and to be teased and taken care of by her brothers.

. . .

The four of them took the tube to Alice's school; they were a motley crew, with Emmett resembling some sort of vagrant, Alice all brightly scrubbed and in her new uniform and Edward looking preppy and delicious in his jeans and t-shirt. Glancing down at herself, Bella realized that her short-shorts and tight vest top did nothing but make their group look even odder. She noticed a few commuters glaring over at them as they stood, talking and laughing.

Alice had forbidden both Esme and Carlisle from accompanying her today, explaining that it would be 'lame' to be taken to high school by her parents. Esme had smiled sadly, and her expression reminded Bella of the way her own mother would look any time she did something 'grown up.' Like the first time she brought Tyler Crowley home.

"When are you flying to San Francisco?" Bella asked Edward. The train had stopped suddenly in a tunnel; the flickering lights and the intermittent darkness made Alice gasp.

"Next Tuesday, I think. Eric has sorted out all the bookings. I fly out of London on Friday. That gives me three days to pack."

"Are you excited?" The train juddered, before pulling away and picking up speed. The force of the movement caused Bella to lose her footing, and she went barreling into Edward's chest. Almost immediately his arms went around her, as if in an automatic reaction to her body-weight. And for the first time in over nine months, Bella found herself locked in an embrace with Edward.

Sudden memories of snow, and music, and sweaty bodies assailed her senses. She wanted nothing more to than to be standing in a wintry street in lower Manhattan, and feeling his lips against hers.

"Are you okay? You hit me pretty hard."

Bella took a deep breath, in an attempt to gain control of her racing heart. But the inflation of her lungs caused her chest to rise up and brush against Edward's abdomen. The soft material of his t-shirt wrinkled in response to her sudden invasion, and she could suddenly feel her own, more visceral, response too.

"I'm fine," she muttered, glancing down at the dirty train floor, in an effort to calm herself down. How could it be that just one touch from Edward had made her feel all jittery? She was with Tyler now, and any little thing that had happened between her and Edward in the past should remain there.

They were just good friends.

"We're here." The train had stopped, and the loud beeping noise emanating from the speakers just above the doors, alerted them to the fact that they would be opening momentarily. As always, it was an effort to get off, as the four of them tried to push their way through a large crowd of commuters who were trying to get on the train at the same time. There was no such thing as politeness between 7am and 9am on the tube; it was every man for himself.

Bella could see that Emmett was standing directly behind Alice, shielding her with his body as they shuffled forward and stepped on to the platform. Edward was just in front of Bella, and he kept glancing back at her to make sure she was okay. After a moment or two he reached back and took her hand, pulling her along with him in an attempt to keep them together.

Even his hands were perfect. His palm was warm and soft, and his long, sculpted fingers curled around hers perfectly. She noticed that his nails were cut short, with a small crescent of white at the tips. Her own nails were still ragged and bitten, and she'd long since given up trying to keep any lacquer on them.

When they reached the top of the escalator, they each fed their tickets into the reader in turn, and walked through the metal barriers and out into the waiting world. Bella had noticed Alice's silence ever since they had left the platform, and she started to worry for the girl. She was radiating nervousness; her face had turned pale and her lips were pulled together in a thin line.

"You okay?" Bella leaned down to whisper in Alice's ear, trying not to let Edward or Emmett hear. "It's fine to feel nervous, you know. We've all been there, and I can promise you that your brothers were every bit as worried as you are when they started high school."

"Not Emmett," Alice whispered back. "He beat a teacher up on his second day there. By the end of the week he was on suspension."

Bella bit back a laugh. The Emmett she had seen so far today was like a gentle giant, she couldn't imagine him beating anybody up, let alone a teacher.

"Why did he do it?"

"The teacher was shouting at a girl he liked. He told me he just saw red."

"I hope she was worth it."

"Emmett seems to think so. It was his girlfriend, Rose."

Bella had never met Rose, although Alice had shown her some photos, and Bella had found herself feeling dull and dowdy in comparison to the tall, blonde beauty. She reminded her a little of Edward's friend Tanya. The thought made her stomach tie itself in knots.

"We're here squirt."

Alice stopped suddenly, looking up at the large, brick and white stucco school building, bordered on all sides by walls and a thick green hedge. Her knees were shaking, and Bella found herself reaching out to grab Alice's hand.

Dropping down to a crouching position, Bella's face reached the same level as Alice's. Still holding her hand, she reached out her other to stroke her cheek.

"Alice, it's going to be okay. You can do this. And when you come out tonight, I bet there'll be a smile on your face."

There was no smile now, as Alice's face crumpled, and tears welled in her eyes. "I don't think I can do this, Bella." Her voice was very small, and Bella wished for all she was worth that she could go in to the school in place of the tiny girl.

"You can, you're stronger than you think. Remember how scared Harry Potter was on his first day at Hogwarts?"

"And then he met Malfoy and Snape." Alice replied, and Bella mentally kicked herself for even trying to go down this route.

"But he met Ron and Hermoine too. And Neville Longbottom, don't forget him."

"How could I forget somebody with such a silly name?" Alice sniffed, the mistiness in her eyes starting to recede.

They all gave Alice a big hug, and watched as she slowly walked through the main gate, never once turning back to look at them. Bella felt her heart drop as she watched Alice's shoulders droop, her gait slow as she loped into the main school, as if she was going to her own execution, rather than her first day at school.

Looking over at Edward and Emmett, she saw that they, too, were watching Alice with similarly worried expressions on their faces.

"Do you fancy a coffee?" she suggested, trying to find a way to cheer them all up.

"I fancy something a lot stronger. But I guess coffee will have to do for now." Edward's voice sounded as down as she felt.

"I'm meeting a couple of friends this morning, but you go ahead." Emmett leaned forward and gave Bella a gentle squeeze. "It was a real pleasure to meet you, Bella. The way you look after Alice is awesome."

"She's an easy kid to love."

"Somebody should tell her that." Emmett agreed, and then gave Edward a slap on the back before walking up the street, back towards the tube station.

Bella turned her gaze back to Edward, who was still staring at the entrance gate to the school. He suddenly looked bereft, and she felt the familiar urge to touch him, nagging at her stomach, an urge so strong that she found herself fisting her palms in an effort to keep them by her side.

"Coffee?" she asked again with a gentle voice, her words causing him to turn and stare at her.

"That sounds good." As he looked down at her, she could see the good humor returning to his face, his lips curling into a crooked smile, the corner of his eyes creasing as they did so.

She reminded herself that it was just a coffee. They would sit opposite each other, in a public space, and discuss inanities while they sipped lukewarm, rather mediocre, coffee, from a chipped, over-used mug. It meant nothing, it was just two friends, sharing some time together, discussing their mutual acquaintance with no weirdness at all. And she wouldn't be looking at him and wondering if he still liked her. And she wouldn't be fantasizing that he would put his lips on hers again, just like he did on that snowy night in New York City.

She wouldn't be doing a lot of things.

And telling Tyler about this coffee date was one of them.

* * *

**A/N - All the hugs to SunflowerFran for beta'ing, and to SparrowNotes24 and Cutestkidsmom for their pre-reading prowess.  
**

**And thanks to all of you, for reading, reviewing and recommending.  
**

**The incredibly talented FallingSnow Winter has made a new banner for Fix You - I've linked it on my profile. And if you fancy a chat, come see me on twitter and Facebook, (links also on my profile).  
**

******Thanks for reading, have a great weekend.  
**


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N - Early posting because it's my birthday - and because Fix You has been nominated for fic of the week at TLS. You can vote at tehlemonadestand dot net - and I would be so happy if you did. And many thanks for SunflowerFran, Cutestkidsmom and SparrowNotes24 for all their hard work with this. Have a great day x**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**3rd September 2001**

Coffee had morphed into lunch, which had extended into an afternoon walk. Now they were resting near the statue of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, blanketed by the warm summer air. Edward lay back, his head propped on his rolled-up jacket, while Bella lay curled up beside him, her cheek resting on his chest.

An empty bottle of expensive wine lay on its side next to them. Bella had laughed at the incongruity of drinking a fifty-pound bottle of Pouilly Fume out of cheap plastic cups; her head tipped backwards and her mouth open in dry amusement at the way he was pouring the wine into the flimsy receptacles. It wasn't exactly silver service.

"Alice will be home soon." He murmured, his hand tangling in her hair as he played with some loose tendrils.

"Mmm." Bella's eyes remained closed, and he could feel a slight moistening of his t-shirt where her mouth was.

"Are you dribbling on me?" he asked, lifting his head up to get a better look.

"No! I don't dribble." She was suddenly awake, whipping her head around to catch his eye, while simultaneously reaching up with her hand to wipe her lips. Edward laughed at her tell-tale gesture.

"I guess that patch on my chest must have spontaneously appeared then? Come on, admit it, I make you salivate."

"Rein it in, Edward, your modesty is scaring me." Bella slapped his stomach, her hand bouncing up off his firm muscles. Then, still staring up at him, she bit her lip to restrain a smile, before poking her tongue out and licking his t-shirt. "But if you're going to accuse me of something I haven't done, then I'm going to do it, anyway."

Clocking the expression on his face, she jumped up and grabbed her bag, running over the open grass, past the statue in the middle of the lawn, and towards the wooded area surrounding them. Grabbing his coat, Edward ran after her, his long, fast, strides meaning he caught her before she even reached the first Oak.

"As if you could outrun me," he laughed, as he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her body back towards his. He could feel the softness of her stomach rising and falling in line with her short, harsh breaths.

Bella tried to wriggle against him, pulling at his arms in an attempt to get him to release her. He held firm, keeping her body contained within his embrace, fighting off her attempts to get free. Her breathing was slowing now, and he could feel his own heartbeat starting to calm after the unexpected burst of activity.

"I guess you can't fight me off either."

Then he felt a sharp shot of pain rise up through his leg, as Bella brought the heel of her sandal down hard on to the top of his foot. He immediately released her, his face creasing in pain as his nerves reacted to her violence.

"Think again, Batman." She was standing in front of him, her arms folded, an amused expression on her face. "I don't think you need to worry about me not being able to fight you off."

"That hurt."

"Would you like me to kiss it better?" Bella's face reddened as soon as she said the words. He watched in fascination as her expression turned from amused to highly embarrassed.

Edward flexed his foot a couple of times, the pain having receded fairly quickly. He debated internally whether to rise to her comment, or let it ride. On this occasion, he decided, discretion was the better part of valour.

They walked back to pick up their trash, disposing of it in a nearby bin, and began their long walk back through the park. It was nearly 3:00PM, and though Emmett was picking Alice up from school, Edward had promised to be waiting for her at home as soon as they arrived.

"So, how are things with Tyler?" he asked, as they reached the Long Pond, following around until it became the Serpentine.

Watching as a smile crossed Bella's face, his stomach clenched in response to her happiness. He tried to work out why her obvious attachment to her boyfriend caused such a reaction in him. He'd thought they'd agreed to be friends. So why was he feeling jealous?

"He's good. We're good. It's going to be strange not having him with me at University this year."

The pain in his stomach lessened. "Why won't he be there?"

"He graduated in July. He has a trainee journalist position here at the Guardian. He's moved into a little flat in Earl's Court.

"Are you guys going to stay together?" He suddenly thought of Tanya, and the relief he felt that they were going to be separated by thousands of miles as soon as he moved to California. Then his mind strayed to the thought of sandy beaches with bronzed girls in tiny bikinis, and early morning surfing.

"Yeah, I mean it's going to take a bit of work. We're only a couple of hundred miles apart; we can see each other at weekends and holidays."

"I guess—"

"Are you doubting me?" She stopped suddenly, her hands placed on her hips. "Because I hope you know me well enough by now. If I want to make something work, I will."

The inference was there. He felt it like a slap in the face. She didn't want to make anything work between _them._ She'd left all that, and him, behind when she left New York last December.

"I would never doubt you, Bella."

"Good." She turned and carried on walking, dropping back so she was walking alongside him. Reaching out, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly, keeping hold of it as they meandered along the edge of the water.

Edward shook his head slightly. Her mood swings were hard to keep up with. He wasn't sure where he stood with her, he wasn't sure that she knew either.

The large oak trees shaded the wide, paved walk-way that ran beside the Serpentine, and they found themselves stepping to one side to avoid a roller-blader who was hammering down the middle of the concrete, intent on picking up as much speed as possible. On the edge of the water, dappled-brown ducks and elegantly pale swans lay waiting for the legions of London children who came to feed them daily.

Trying to make amends, Edward pulled Bella towards him, putting his arm around her shoulders in a friendly gesture.

"I'm going to miss you, when you move to California. Will you be coming over her for Christmas?" Her voice was softer as she attempted to change the subject.

"I don't know when I'll be back in London, or even New York, come to that. If Eric and I want to get this business off the ground, then I think we'll be working too hard to leave San Francisco for any length of time."

"Tell me again what you are planning to do?" Bella's face frowned, making Edward smile as he remembered how confused his e-mail explanations had made her.

"Okay, have you heard of Friends Reunited?" He decided to try to start at the basics, to help her understand the concepts.

"Yeah, my mum has made contact with some of her old school friends through that."

"Well, Eric and I want to use that sort of concept, but make it wider, and more modern. Not just catching up with old friends, but keeping in touch with your current friends, chatting, letting them know how you are doing. Maybe even playing games against each other, that sort of thing."

"Why would you do that when you can just pick up the phone and call them?"

"Because this way you could keep in contact with hundreds of friends at once. With a click of a button, you can let everybody in your life know what's going on with you. Say, for instance, you want to tell them that you've graduated. At the moment, you either have to phone them, send them a letter, or rely on word-of-mouth. With our site, you'd be able to write a line to say you've graduated, and all of your friends will hear it at once. You've spent less than a minute updating them, and can spend the rest of your day reading Jane Austen, or whatever the hell it is you want to do."

"Hmm. I can't really see why I'd ever want to do that."

"Did you ever think that you'd want to have a cell phone?"

"A what?"

"Surely you know what a cell phone is?" Edward felt incredulous, pulling his Nokia 8250 out of his pocket and showing it to her.

"Oh! You mean a mobile phone?" Bella took the phone from him, looking at the chromatic display. "Ooh, this one is nice."

"Divided by a common language." Edward shook his head. Sometimes it was so hard, trying to make himself understood in a country that insisted on calling things the wrong names. "Anyway, as I was saying, although you may not have thought about needing a _mobile phone," _he drawled the last two words, "now everybody has either got one, or wants one, and it's changing the way we communicate. It will be the same with websites like ours. We're fulfilling a need people didn't even know they had. That's the way to innovate."

"Well, I'll let you know if I ever feel the need to tell hundreds of acquaintances that I've just bought a loaf of bread. Until then, I'll reserve judgement." Bella smiled, as if she was enjoying winding him up, and Edward suddenly realized that he was enjoying it too.

"I'll expect a very public, web-based, apology. Perhaps some grovelling too."

"I can do dribbling, if that helps?"

"I noticed."

They had reached Hyde Park Corner now. The familiar tube sign—red circle with a blue line—stood on a pole just outside of the grand stone entrance to the Park. Edward, in walking distance of his father's Chelsea home, was aware that this was where they were going to say goodbye.

"I guess you'd better get back. Alice won't be happy if you're not there when she gets home." Bella's hands were jammed in the pockets of her shorts, her long slim legs crossed as she stood in front of him. "It was so nice to see you again."

"And you. I'll miss you."

"It doesn't sound like you'll have time to miss me."

"I'll make time."

"Then make sure you email me. Or invite me to join your website. I'm still all about the grovelling."

Edward laughed, running his hand through his hair as he looked down at her smiling face. "I can't wait for the grovelling."

"Seriously, good luck with it all. And don't be a stranger." Bella pulled her hands out of her pockets and threw her arms around him, pulling him closely for a brief hug before she released him and stepped back.

"I'll send you an email as soon as I'm set up in our new office. And you know you can visit me whenever you want to," he replied, a sudden vision of Bella in a swimsuit passing through his mind.

"I might hold you to that."

He leaned down and brushed his lips against the soft skin of her cheek, taking a moment to breathe her in, before she turned and walked down the steps, into the depths of the underground station. Edward stood at the top of the steps, watching her retreating body, until she had turned the corner and he could see her no more. And then, touching his lips briefly with his fingers, he turned and walked along the sidewalk in the direction of Chelsea.

…

After dinner, the family gathered in the cozy den that Esme had created in the basement of their elegant townhouse. Edward sat back on the sofa, watching Emmett getting beaten by Alice on the PlayStation, as Carlisle sat next to him, talking of California.

"Esme and I hope to visit you in November, if you'll have us?"

"That would be great. I'm not sure if we'll have a lot of room in the apartment, but there are a couple of hotels nearby."

Edward looked at his father. The two of them had always maintained a solid relationship, despite the upheavals of divorce, remarriage, and overseas living. It was only as Edward got older that he realized just how much effort Carlisle must have put into seeing his son, and making sure that Edward always realized he was loved.

"Will you bring Alice?"

"I hope so, as long as she doesn't miss too much school. Otherwise Emmett has volunteered to stay and look after her."

The two of them looked at each other and burst out laughing at the thought of leaving Emmett in charge of a twelve year old child. This was the guy that had lost his passport, wallet and ID somewhere in the Andes, and didn't realize until he tried to board a plane. It was highly likely that he would forget to pick Alice up from school, or wander off on a whim, leaving her home alone, like a female version of Macaulay Culkin.

"How was Bella? Did the two of you have a good time today?" Esme asked, as she walked over to join them, carrying a small glass of white wine in her right hand. Sitting down on the easy chair opposite, she leaned towards him, her face animated.

"She was good, she seems very happy," Edward answered.

"That's what I thought too. Tyler seems to have brought out the best in her."

Edward looked at his step-mother as he put his bottle of beer to his lips and swallowed a mouthful. He knew that his family was completely oblivious to anything that had gone on between Bella and him in New York, but Esme's easy acceptance of Tyler rankled him.

"Do you like him?" He knew he was asking a leading question, but a part of him wanted to hear something negative about the sainted Tyler.

"He seems very nice. A little wary of us, I guess, but friendly over all."

"Why is he wary?" Edward's brows knit in confusion. Why would anybody be wary of the Cullens?

"I think the location of our house might have something to do with it. From what I've gathered from Bella he's not that keen on people with a lot of wealth. I'm not sure whether we intimidate him, or infuriate him." Esme smiled gently.

"Does he treat her well?"

"I think so, darling. I haven't heard any different. I've only met him once, when Bella first came back to London in July. She brought him over to meet Alice. And by the way, Alice isn't keen at all."

Edward tried to resist the grin that was threatening to creep across his face.

Hearing her name, Alice's head whipped around. Her momentary lapse of concentration allowed Emmett to crush his on-screen opponent, and he let out a whoop as her character died. Having the innate ability of a twelve year old girl to do three things at once, Alice pressed restart, hit her brother's leg, and demanded of her mother, "Alice isn't keen on what?"

Esme and Edward replied at the same time.

"Nothing, darling."

"Bella's boyfriend."

Alice's nose screwed up, as she hit the pause button, ignoring Emmett's cries of frustration as she put down her controller and moved closer to Edward and Esme.

"I don't like him at all. When they came over he treated me like a kid, and every time Bella tried to tell me something, he just kept on interrupting," she complained, her arms crossed firmly in front of her chest. "And then he started to kiss her neck as she was trying to play Monopoly with me, and even though she kept telling him not to, he was all grabby and horrible."

Edward's good mood had only lasted a moment. Now he wanted to grab hold of Tyler Crowley's grabby hands and twist them until they hurt. Maybe until he could hear a crack.

The violence of his own reaction surprised him.

"Why can't you be Bella's boyfriend, Edward?" Alice continued in her complaints, her face turning to look at him plaintively.

"Yeah, Ed, why can't you be Bella's boyfriend? I noticed the two of you getting cozy on the underground." Emmett laughed as he poked fun at his step-brother, ignoring Alice's dirty look.

"Leave your brother alone, you two," Esme interceded, placing a gentle arm on Edward's shoulder as she leaned towards him. "We all know that Edward and Bella are good friends. And Edward is moving to California next week, do you really think he could have a relationship with somebody so far away?"

"He has a relationship with me, and I'm this far away." Alice piped up.

Fair point, Edward thought, interested to see how Esme would respond.

"But being a brother and sister is different to having a boyfriend or girlfriend. You two are family; you'll always have a bond, no matter where in the world you are."

"But Bella's family too, you said so." Alice was starting to look confused, and Esme was definitely looking perturbed. Edward tried to swallow down his amusement.

"I know she is darling, I know." Esme suddenly downed a huge gulp of her white wine, and put her glass on the table, glancing over at Edward with her eyebrows raised, as if she was asking him for some help.

Edward could feel his father shaking with humor at Esme's discomfort. Esme turned to look at Carlisle, her lips pursed and her eyebrows lowered in response to his laughter.

"Perhaps your father would like to explain it, Alice."

"Hey, you're on your own with this one, Esme. I can't wait to find out how Bella is different to Alice." Carlisle replied, winking at his wife as he did so.

"Yeah, Mom, how is Bella different to me?"

Emmett muttered something below his breath. Though his words were inaudible, Edward found that he could hazard a good guess at what it was he was saying. They almost certainly had something to do with tits and ass.

"Well, put it this way, Alice. We wouldn't be having this conversation at all if Bella were really Edward's sister, would we? Then they wouldn't be able to be boyfriend and girlfriend." With that, Esme stood up and wandered over to Emmett, cuffing the top of his head with her palm. "And don't think I don't know what you just said, because I do. And it was rude."

"Aw, Mom!" Emmett rubbed his hair with his right hand, his bottom lip pouting as he complained. "That hurt."

"You deserved worse. Now entertain your sister before she asks me any more questions." Esme hissed, glancing behind her briefly before leaving the room, her skirt whipping out behind her as she beat her hasty retreat.

Finishing his bottle of beer, Edward leaned back and looked at his family, enjoying the warm, happy feeling that suffused his body. They may have been a little weird, and they were definitely annoying, but they were all his.

And he was going to miss them.


	13. Chapter 12

**Hi everybody, I just wanted to give you a heads up that this is a tissue-friendly chapter. Angsty and sad, and based on 9.11. If you can't read, or if it is a trigger for you, please pm me and I will send you a brief synopsis. For everybody else, take my hand and I'll meet you at the bottom.**

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**Chapter 12**

**September 11****th**** 2001**

If there was any single day of the week she hated most, it was Tuesdays. Mondays, although bad, still clung to the faint traces of a good weekend, and Wednesdays had the advantage of being half way through the week. But as for Tuesdays, they had nothing going for them. They were the diurnal equivalent of broccoli.

Bella had spent the night at her mum's house. Tyler was away for a few days on a training course, and she hadn't fancied being cooped up alone in his place. Not when she could spend some quality girly-time with Renee, accompanied by vast amounts of Dairy Milk Chocolate. Last night they had rented a movie, and sat on Renee's sagging floral sofa, their eyes glued to the small screen in the corner of the room. Bella had tried not to show her amusement at her mum's choice of film—_Almost Famous_—especially when Renee clocked Penny Lane sleeping her way around the band.

"_I hope you don't get up to anything like that," her mum had grumbled, arms folded in front of her as Bella laughed out loud._

"_As if! I only let them shake my hand if I can be sure they've washed them first.'_

And now, she was sitting on the window-seat in her old bedroom, her tattered copy of 'Lord of the Rings' in her hand as she was reading the final chapter of 'Return of the King. The early-afternoon sun was beating through the pane of glass, a shard of light lying across her legs, and warming her skin.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of the telephone ringing in the kitchen cut straight through the silence of the apartment, and it took some moments for Bella to drag her mind from Moria and back into present-day London. Looking around desperately for something to use as a bookmark, she finally pulled her hair band out, placing it in between the pages as her hair cascaded down her back.

Running through the living room, she made it to the kitchen just as the phone rang off. It wasn't the first time this had happened to her, but the frustration still tightened her jaw as she realized that her mad dash had been for nothing. Glancing down at her watch, she saw that it was nearly 1:30PM. She had been so caught up in Middle-Earth that she hadn't realized it was lunchtime, and only now could she feel the tell-tale growl of hunger, gurgling in the pit of her stomach.

Opening the dark-oak cupboard beside her, she pulled out a loaf of sliced bread, deciding that a couple of pieces of toast would be the easiest thing to make. And it had the advantage of being easily portable; she could eat and read at the same time.

As she walked over towards the refrigerator, she was interrupted once again by the sharp tones of the telephone. Her victory smile was huge as she walked over and lifted the handset, speaking a loud 'hello' into the mouthpiece.

"Bella? It's Tyler."

"Did you just try and call me?" She bit her lip in confusion. He wasn't supposed to be calling her until tomorrow. He'd said he was going to be tied up in lessons all day.

"No, I've just escaped from the room. Are you okay?" His voice sounded thin and strained, and for the life of her, Bella couldn't wonder why he was asking if she was the one who was okay.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Are you watching the news?" There was murmuring in the background, and she wondered just how many people were at this training course.

"No, I was in my room, reading. What's going on?"

Not for the first time, she wished they had a cordless phone, so she could keep talking while she walked into the living room and turned on the television. But whenever she'd brought it up before, Renee had argued that she'd lose the thing. Bella had some sympathy with her mum's train of thought.

"There's been a plane crash in New York. Two planes, actually. They've smashed into the World Trade Center."

All thoughts of Frodo Baggins, Moria and toast were wiped clean out of Bella's head. The only thing she could think about was the last time she had seen the World Trade Center, as it loomed above her, when she was walking into her father's office.

"Oh my God, Tyler. That's right next to my Dad's building." Her hand was shaking as she held on tightly to the telephone, as if it were a lifeline to her dad.

"It's fucking mayhem over there, nobody knows anything. I've been called back to the office in London to man the phones for the night, so I'm leaving now. I'll try and call you when I get there."

Bella's heart dropped so fast that it almost touched her polka-dot socks. All she wanted was for her boyfriend to come home to her, to hold her, to tell her it was going to be okay.

"Thanks Tyler." Her voice was small as she placed the phone back in its cradle, her legs walking as if on automatic towards the living room, her arm reaching out robotically to press the 'on' switch.

She couldn't bring herself to sit down as she watched the coverage, though her stomach was churning in response to the visual disaster playing out on the screen. Her whole body was shaking, and a sob escaped from her throat as she watched the panic responses of both the public and the journalists to what they were already describing as 'an act of war'.

And it wasn't just her dad and his family she was worried about; there was Edward and his family, and all those other unknown members of the public who were being hit by tragedy before her very eyes. She hoped to God that Edward had already made it safely to California; he had told her he was flying there early this week, though she couldn't remember what day he'd said he was flying.

She fervently hoped that it was any day, except today.

Still trembling, she walked back into the kitchen and pulled open the drawer that contained their telephone books. Pulling out the tattered, black leather journal, and flicking to the page with her dad's numbers, she systematically dialled each one, only to get the same response.

A busy tone.

Trying again, and again, she could feel the tears starting to tumble down her cheeks as she hit the buttons in frustration, knowing before even dialling the final number she would just hear a dead, monotonous response.

And yet she still did it.

Pulling at the skin around her thumb with her teeth, she hunted through the book until she came to the 'Cs'. Running her finger down the page, she found the number she was looking for and dialled it quickly, her heart lifting slightly at the familiar sound of a ringing tone vibrating down the earpiece.

"Hello?"

"Esme? It's Bella." As soon as she heard Esme's soft voice, the tears started to run thick and fast. Another strangled sob escaped from her mouth, and she heard Esme's soft gasp in response.

"Sweetheart, have you heard anything from your dad?"

"No. I can't get through. Have you heard from Edward?" Her heart hammered against her ribcage. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear Esme's response.

"No, we've heard nothing. Carlisle is locked up in his room trying to get some information. He's pulling in all the contacts he has."

"When was he supposed to be flying to San Francisco?"

"He's meant to be flying this morning, Bella." Esme was audibly crying now, the emotion punctuating every word as she spoke. "We don't know what time, or which airline. I'm sure that it will all be fine."

"Oh no." Bella started to rock forward and backwards on the balls of her feet, setting up a rhythm that was somehow comforting to her.

"Is Renee with you?"

"She's organizing a party in Hertfordshire. She won't be back until later tonight." Bella sniffed at the thought of her mum. Did Renee even know what was going on? She had to assume that she didn't, otherwise she would have called by now.

"You're alone? Oh, Bella." Esme sounded aghast at this revelation. "I'm going to send a car over for you. You can't be on your own at a time like this."

The kindness of this woman made Bella's heart fracture. Even when dealing with her own personal tragedy, she thought of others and wanted to help. Bella found herself falling even further for the entire Cullen family.

And for the thought that she wasn't alone.

. . .

In later years, Bella would find it hard to remember exactly what happened that afternoon. The timeline after she put the telephone down was muted and fuzzy. The details of her car journey to Chelsea were a complete blank – she wouldn't have been able to tell you what color or make the car was, or even if the driver was male or female. Her head, and her heart, were totally distracted. Her mind was full of images; not only of the current catastrophe, but also of previous, happier times; memories of time spent with her father, or with Edward. Day trips and nights out, all with the same common denominator.

Every single one of them contained the looming presence of the Twin Towers. It was as if her mind was playing tricks on her, placing the images in her previously unblemished recollections of Manhattan. And no matter what she did, she couldn't erase them.

Everybody, regardless of where they lived in New York, would be affected by this. And those that were dearest to her, those that meant the most, would be caught up in the aftermath one way or another. It was so clear to her that things could never be the same again.

As soon as she arrived at Cheyne Walk, she was swept inside the house by Esme and Emmett, the two of them almost carrying her until she was placed gently down on Esme's slouchy sofa. Their eyes were rimmed with red, wetness shining off their skin as they mourned the passing of life as they knew it. And they tried not to vocalize the fear that they had for Edward.

"Carlisle is putting feelers out for your father," Esme confided, as they sat and watched the muted T.V. "He has contacts in the embassy and the state office. They're doing everything they can, but it is pandemonium out there. Nobody can contact anyone, all of the communications networks are down. It's going to take a long time before we find out anything."

Bella could feel a numbness wash over her skin as she continued to watch the news coverage. She didn't flinch as she watched the footage of a third plane crash into the Pentagon, nor did she comment when a fourth plane crashed into a field in rural Pennsylvania.

She just sat, her eyes wide open, her mouth still breathing, her heart still beating. She didn't want to see the recordings of the plane crashes being played on a continuous loop, but she just could not tear her eyes away. It was like being hypnotized against her will.

So they sat, and they watched, and they remained mute, until a loud bang came from Carlisle's office. It sounded like something being thrown against a wall, a noisy, splintering sound, followed by the frantic wail of a grown man.

"No." Esme's voice was quiet, but fraught. She immediately stood up and walked over to the office door, Bella and Emmett staring at her moving body as she strode, their faces frozen in fear.

As Esme reached the door, it was flung open to reveal Carlisle standing there. His normal suave facade had been replaced by that of a desperate man. His shirt was askew, his hair falling all over the place. But what really pierced Bella through the heart was the expression on his face. As long as she lived, she would never forget that look, though she hoped to never see such despair ever again. It was a mixture of fear and misery, frustration and inaction. It was a father fighting for his son.

"The fourth plane was heading for San Francisco," he whispered, as if he didn't have the strength to speak.

Bella's shaking returned. She hugged her arms around her stomach in an attempt to stop herself, but instead found herself rocking forwards and backwards again.

"Where did it take off?" Esme asked.

"Newark."

"Carlisle." Esme's voice was a wail. She flung herself into her husband's arms, her sobbing increasing as he held her tightly.

Bella started to shake her head, as if she was trying to deny what was happening. She looked at Emmett to see him sitting with his hands covering his mouth, as if to stifle a silent scream. His blue eyes stared straight back at her, the emotion churning beneath the gentle azure.

"Was he definitely flying from Newark?" She whispered to Emmett, grabbing for any flicker of hope, like a drowning man searching for a life-jacket.

"I don't know. I don't think Dad knows which flight he was getting. But he's flown from Newark before."

Glancing at the television screen, Bella could see from the clock in the right-hand corner that it was almost 2:30PM.

"Alice," she whispered, trying not to watch Carlisle and Esme's desperate embrace. "If I leave now I can get to school in time to pick her up." Bella needed the fresh air, and the purpose that such a trip would give her. Distance and time; that was what she craved.

"I'll go with you. I don't want her to hear about this from anybody else," Emmett whispered, his head slowly nodding in agreement.

"Do we tell them we're leaving?" Bella looked over at Esme. It was like she and Carlisle were in their own bubble. Emmett's gaze followed her stare, and his face crumpled again as he watched their misery unfolding before him.

"You go and grab your coat, I'll tell them."

. . .

Alice had already heard. When she came out of the school, her face was furrowed and tear-stained, and she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw them waiting for her. Bella found it hard to watch as she stood there, looking so tiny and alone. She couldn't help but run over to her, scooping her into an embrace.

"Is he dead?" Alice's words were muffled by Bella's jacket. "Is my brother dead?"

Bella stroked Alice's hair, rubbing the silky strands between the pads of her fingers as they reached the ends.

"We don't know what's going on. All the phone lines are down." Despite Esme and Carlisle's reaction, Bella refused to believe the worst. It didn't _feel_ like he was gone. And surely she'd know if their connection had been severed.

"But he could be?"

"Sweetheart, we have to think positively." Emmett walked over and pulled both girls into the sanctuary of his strong arms. Bella could feel the wetness of his skin as his cheek skimmed hers. Closing her eyes, she held on to them both, wanting to lose herself in the feeling of security their embrace offered.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there. It was a few minutes, at least, before they had recovered enough to let each other go, and begin the arduous task of returning to Chelsea. Bella wasn't sure if she should go back there, worrying that she would be an intruder amongst the Cullen family grief. But when she suggested returning to her own home, Alice had clung on to her, wailing, until she had agreed to return to Cheyne Walk.

The house was quiet as they entered through the front door. Their footsteps echoed as they walked across the large entrance hall, heading for the back flight of steps that led down to the den and Carlisle's office.

Bella was relieved to see that Carlisle and Esme had calmed themselves in their absence, and although their eyes were still red with tears, the horror had eased its way from their expressions.

Alice ran over and threw her arms around her mother, muttering and burying her head in her shoulder. Esme immediately responded, whispering comforting words into her daughter's ear, her eyes closed as she did so.

"One of my contacts has taken a look at the passenger manifest. Edward wasn't on it." Carlisle walked over to them, running his hand through his hair in a way that reminded Bella of his son.

"Thank fuck." Emmett breathed, collapsing on the sofa and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he put his head in his hands. "Have you managed to get hold of him?"

"No, we're not out of the woods yet. We don't know where he is, but at least he wasn't on that plane."

"Jesus. That's good news."

"And Bella, I've found out that your father's building was evacuated before the towers collapsed. I can't find out anything more at the moment, but at least that sounds hopeful."

She couldn't speak. Bella tried to open her mouth, but nothing came out, just a whoosh of air followed by silence. Her bottom lip trembled as she tried to mouth the words, but all she could think of was Edward, and that he was safe.

Or at least he wasn't lost. And that was something to cling on to, for now. Because in a world where nothing was sacred, and everything was turning to hell, no news had to be good news.

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**A/N Are you still with me?**

**I want to thank you all for your reviews and birthday wishes last week. I didn't send out any teasers, because it just didn't feel appropriate, but I want you to know that I read each and every review and loved them, so please keep them coming.**

**Many thanks to SunflowerFran, Cutestkidsmom and SparrowNotes24 for holding my hand through this, you guys are the best.  
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**Finally - Fix You won Fic of the Week on TLS. Thank you everybody who voted - you rock.**

**Any questions? You can find me on Facebook, twitter, or PM me. Links are on my profile.  
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**Take care and thanks for reading. Chocaholic xx  
**


	14. Chapter 13

**Brief warning - this chapter is set in Manhattan a few days after 9.11.**

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**Chapter 13**

**September 14****th**** 2001**

Edward watched as the nurse's aide pulled the needle out of his vein, and small beads of blood bubbled up on the skin inside his elbow. Placing the syringe in a metal kidney-dish, she pressed some cotton gauze over the puncture wound, pushing down hard with her fingers to stem the bleeding.

"I think you're good to go now," she said, her eyes moving to the next person waiting in line. The queue to donate blood was already out of the door.

He muttered a brief word of thanks, before swinging his legs around and placing them on the tiled floor, pushing himself up off the gurney and walking out of the make-shift cubicle. His fast movement had made him feel slightly dizzy, so he stopped for a moment before leaving the room, placing a hand on the painted wall to support himself.

Edward had made the trek downtown by foot. Trying to drive around Manhattan was still almost impossible; streets right across the financial district had been closed or blocked. Even walking he had to show I.D. just to get through the cordons. At any other time he would have felt uneasy at living in what was tantamount to a police state. But for now, he just felt reassured.

Walking out onto Broadway, his soles made marks in the dust-covered sidewalk, and the grey powder clung to the sides of his black shoes. The wind was blowing northwards, bringing with it not only noxious smells, but also reams of white paper and other debris that had escaped from the collapsed buildings. The financial district was truly a ghost town; the atmosphere was eerie and muted. The usual hustle and bustle of wealthy suited men dashing from meeting to meeting had been replaced by the reverent movements of the emergency services. The only sounds were those of the rescue teams.

It was all he could do not to turn around and run back up towards the Upper East Side.

But he had made a promise to Jake and Elizabeth; and it was one he intended to fulfill. His mother wasn't stable enough to make the journey downtown yet—since Tuesday, she had been sedating herself with a worrying cocktail of tranquilizers and wine. And as for Jake; at first Edward had feared an overdose or other such knee-jerk reaction. But now, with the number of policemen patrolling the streets as well as the routes into the city, Jake was finding himself unable to feed his habit, instead going through the throes of going cold turkey.

As Edward reached the jagged metallic ruins of the towers, he found his legs shaking at the sight. It was awful, in the truest sense of the word. Not only was it sickening and frightening to look at, but also awesome in its total devastation. He was unable to look for long, the dust blowing into his eyes was making them water. So he placed the flowers, which he had bought from a street seller, down on the floor, beside the other tributes that had been left for the missing and the dead.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he thought of the last time he had seen William Black. It had been on the Monday evening, when they had shaken hands and said goodbye, as Edward was due to leave for California the following day.

Neither of them had known just how final that farewell had been.

"Have you lost somebody?" A voice to his left asked quietly. Edward turned to see a uniformed officer standing and looking at him, his eyes gentle and concerned.

"My step-father was on the hundred and second floor." Edward didn't need to say any more. They both knew the implications of his words.

"I'm very sorry for your loss."

Edward nodded, before moving away. He couldn't look any more. He was done.

The walk home took nearly two hours, despite his brisk pace. As he passed the entrance to Penn Station, he could see that it was full of firemen trying to rest before resuming their increasingly futile rescue efforts. Their bodies slumped against the brick walls; their shoulders weighed down by miserable exhaustion.

Shop windows and bare walls were now covered with posters of missing-persons. It was hard to look at them;however, in a strange way they signified that there was still hope, and that was something positive to hold on to.

And for the first time ever, in a lifetime spent in New York, every person that he passed either nodded at him or said hello. It was like a dam had been broken, and civility and friendliness had suddenly come pouring out from the other side. Everyone seemed desperate to acknowledge and be acknowledged, and Edward found himself responding in kind.

By the time he arrived at the house, it was late afternoon. The sky was starting to turn grey, and some houses were already lit up by candles, burning in a vigil for the dead and the lost. He noticed that Maria had placed some in the windows of their own house; waiting to be lit as soon as darkness fell.

Elizabeth was awake when he walked in, curled up on the silk-covered sofa in the drawing room. He was pleased to see that her hand wasn't wrapped around the stem of a crystal wine-glass, although they were pale and shaking, just like the rest of her. Her hair fell around her un-made up face, in pale strands, and her lips were red and dry from the constant scraping of her teeth.

"I'm going to shower and then come right back," he told her, as she looked up at him with her glassy blue eyes.

"Hurry, darling. I don't like being alone."

The shower was necessary. His hair was covered with dust, and his skin was itching from the effect of the wind and detritus in the air. More than anything he wanted to wash away the memories of today, and watch them follow the grey sludgy water down the drain, but dirt was more easily dealt with than thoughts.

He went back downstairs with his hair still wet. His mother hadn't moved, she was still staring at the same spot on the wall, looking at the pictures of their family and friends, at photographs of happier times, when life was predictably good, and evil was just a concept in an old book.

"Was it terrible out there?" Even Elizabeth's voice seemed to have deadened, as she spoke through dry, thin lips.

"It wasn't pleasant. I gave blood then went to see the—," he couldn't bring himself to say the words, although he suspected at some point he would need to do so.

"Is there any hope?"

He knew she was asking if there were more survivors being brought out. He shook his head.

"Please don't leave me, Edward." A single tear emerged from the corner of her eye, and ran down her cheek, dripping from her chin to make a stain on the silk sofa. "I know I said I didn't want you to move to California before, but I mean it. I don't think I can do this on my own."

"I'm not going anywhere." He moved to sit with her, took her hand in his own and squeezed it gently.

"They're saying that they'll issue death certificates soon, even if no bodies are found. I've tried calling our family lawyers, but there's never any answer. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing."

"We'll work it out. I'll try calling them again tomorrow." He scratched his head as his eyes wandered over to the drink cabinet. The whiskey bottle was calling him like a siren. He tried to ignore the craving; he didn't want to encourage his mother to start drinking again. Not when she was sober for the first time in four days.

Still holding his mother's hand tightly, he asked, "Has Jake come down yet?"

"Maria took him up some lunch, and she said he was quieter, but he still doesn't want to see anybody."

"I'll check on him in a minute. He shouldn't be alone."

"He told me that he doesn't want his inheritance, that he doesn't want anything of William's." Her voice broke as she said her dead husband's name.

"He's mourning his father. I don't think he knows what he's saying." Edward closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine how he would feel if it was Carlisle who had died in the attack. Just the thought tore a hole in his heart. God only knew how Jake was feeling.

"He's going to own the majority of Black Enterprises. So many people are going to be relying on him, and I just know he's going to crumble, Edward." Elizabeth took her son's face in her hands, pulling him closer so she could stare straight at him. "And you know that William has bequeathed a share of the company to you and me as well. You need to go in there and protect our interests, Sweetheart. William would have wanted you to be in control, at least until Jacob is ready."

"I've already spoken with the Chief Financial Officer; we've decided to rent some office space uptown for now. We're meeting tomorrow to discuss interim arrangements." He didn't tell her that he had called Eric and tendered his resignation from a Company he had yet to set up, and forfeited his deposit on the apartment they were due to rent in San Francisco. Such details seemed unimportant at a time like this.

. . .

Early the following morning, before leaving to meet with the board of Black Enterprises, Edward sat in his deceased step-father's oak-paneled study and used his state-of-the-art computer to check his emails. It was the first time he had done so since September 10th, and he was surprised to see so many unread notes there. Scanning his eyes down the list of senders, he could see that the majority of them were friends, possibly concerned for his safety, seeking reassurances that he was okay.

Near the bottom of the page, he saw the words 'Bella Swan'. Just seeing the lines of her name kick started something inside of him, like a small pilot light was being lit in the boiler of his soul.

_From: __IMSwan_

_To: __EACullen_

_Subject: You_

_Edward,_

_I hate that I have to write this email. I hate that I can't be there for you, and that I can't even contact you by phone. Everything about this situation is horrific, and I'm going crazy trying to think about how you must be feeling right now. _

_I spent the day of September 11__th__ with your family, and I was amazed not only by their fervent love and worry for you, but also for the support that they showed me at a time when we were all at our lowest ebb. They care and adore you so much, and the relief we felt when we heard that both you and my father were safe was truly a joy to behold. _

_And yet, it was tinged with sadness as soon as we heard that your step-father had died in the tragedy. I am sorrier than you can ever know, and if you ever need a friend to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, I am here. Day or night, just call. _

_You know that, right?_

_I'm going to log off in a minute. I'm sitting in an internet café (what a fantastic combination – liquids and keyboards; a marriage made in heaven), and there is a Swedish student with an unfeasibly large backpack standing behind me, breathing down my neck. I fear that if I type for much longer there will be an international incident of some disrepute._

_I love you, my friend. I wish I could be there to hug you right now, and as soon as I meet you next, please expect for the breath to be squeezed out of you by my puny arms. I'll be that happy to see your ugly face._

_Don't worry about replying. I'm sure you have hundreds of emails like this from your female admirers. _

_Bella x_

Edward glanced at the clock in the bottom of the screen, noting it was 6:20 AM. He was due to meet with the board at 8:00 AM, and the temporary HQ was only a half hour walk away. He had enough time to reply before setting off.

_From: __EACullen_

_To: __IMSwan_

_Subject: And You_

_Bella,_

_Thank you for your words. At a time like this, what I need from you is levity. There is so much going on here right now, not just in New York, but also in my own life, and knowing that normality still reins in the rest of the world, is somehow reassuring. _

_My father told me how much you did on that day, the way you looked after Alice, and supported Emmett, despite your own fears. So I can categorically say that when you squeeze me, I shall be clasping you back much harder. May I suggest you practice your breathing techniques in the meantime?_

_I have to leave for a meeting now, but I'll try to write more later. _

_Love,_

_Edward._

He sent a stock reply to everybody else in his inbox; he was alive, though William was not, and things were so hectic, that he'd write properly, when he had the chance. Then he turned off the computer and gathered up his things, leaving the brownstone and heading west towards the office building that Eleazar Denali had helped him find.

The building was old, and they were having trouble sourcing enough furniture and equipment to house all of their employees who had survived the disaster. But Edward smiled as he saw them all making do; some sitting on wooden crates sorting through papers, others sharing computers as they tried to put things back into some sort of order. Many employees approached him as he headed to the elevator, wanting to shake his hand, or offer their condolences. He stopped and talked with each and every one, thanking them for their efforts, and their dedication to the company.

Having finally made it to the make-shift conference room at the top of the building, Edward was pleased to see that it was north-facing; the huge windows all along one side of the room had no view of the smoke and the devastation that was still the main feature of lower Manhattan.

The remaining members of the advisory board were standing around in clusters, talking rapidly, eyes wide as they exchanged stories of the day their lives changed irrevocably. The majority of them hadn't been in the office on the morning of the crash, but the shock of their near-miss remained etched on their faces as they chattered, their eyes sliding over to Edward as he entered the room, sizing him up as a potential replacement for William Black.

Taking a deep breath, Edward squared his shoulders and walked to the head of the conference table, keeping his pace even and measured. He pulled the chair out, deliberately scraping it loudly across the floor, making all eyes turn his way.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I suggest we start. We have a business to run." As they all sat down, Edward remained standing, moving his eyes around the room as he looked at each board member in turn. Some of them looked skeptical, others hopeful. The cannier amongst them kept their expressions blank as they glanced back at him, making it hard for him to read their features.

"As you all know, William Black, the owner of this company, is missing, presumed dead. In his absence, I am here representing the new owners; my step-brother, my mother and myself.

"And I can see that there are some among you who remain unconvinced that I can step into his shoes and turn the fortunes of this company around. To those people, I say; either you are with me, or you are against me. If you don't want to work here, I'm very happy to accept your resignation right now, and see you out of the door."

Edward paused, his eyes scanning the room again; to see if any of them would take him up on his offer.

They all remained silent.

"I'm glad we've got that settled. Now, just like my step-father, I expect you to work hard, and I demand your loyalty. Our business has suffered a huge body-blow in the past week, but the camaraderie and the determination that I have seen out there on the streets has been absolutely amazing. If we can channel that same grit, right here into this company, then I truly believe that we can rebuild this Company brick by brick, and make it an enterprise that William Black would justifiably be proud of."

He noticed a few heads nodding at his words. He remained stoic, not allowing himself to sigh or even show a flicker of emotion as he spoke to them. He didn't dare demonstrate any weakness.

"Now I'd like you all to go out there and motivate your people. I'll be meeting with all of you individually, and we'll be making plans for the future. In the meantime, I look forward to working with each and every one of you."

Thanking them for their time, Edward finally allowed himself to sit down, trying to hide the trembling in his legs as he did so. And as he finally felt the feeling coming back to his nervous system, he watched as they all started to clap, standing up to give him a heartfelt ovation.

The first person to actually approach him was Samuel Uley, the chief financial officer. A close confederate of William's, Sam's face was drawn down in grief as he shook Edward's hands, muttering the usual trite condolences as he looked him straight in the eye.

"Thank you, Sir." Edward replied, wondering how, in the space of a few days, he had turned from a newly graduated ex-student, into a man that everybody was looking to, someone who was supposed to know how to run a multi-billion dollar business.

Samuel must have clocked the nervousness in Edward's face, or perhaps it was the shaking of his hand as they clasped his own. Either way, the older man took pity on him.

"If any of these fuck-ups give you trouble, come and see me. I'll give you every bit of support I can."

"I'm grateful for your backing. Thank you."

Glancing down at the sheet of paper in front of him, Edward could see that his temporary PA had already set up individual meetings with board members; his entire day was filled, right up until 8:00 PM that evening. It was clear that his life was no longer going to be his own

But to fail at this, would be to let down thousands of people, employees and customers and shareholders that were relying on him to make this company a success.

And that was not an option.

* * *

**A/N Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews and PMs. I haven't had a chance to respond to them all, but I read every single one of them and cherished them all.**

**Thanks to SunflowerFran, Cutestkidsmom and SparrowNotes24 for their help. You guys are great.  
**


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**June 29th 2002**

"What's that?" Tyler picked up the package from her bed, as she continued to pack her rucksack, stuffing things in as tightly as possible.

Bella glanced over as she watched him pull the t-shirt out of the packaging, letting it fall open in front of him to reveal the vintage 1973 'New York Dolls' band shirt that Edward had sent her. Thank God she had hidden the letter, because if Tyler had read what Edward had written, he'd be doing a lot more than grimacing at an old top.

"It's a present from Edward."

"I don't like the way he keeps sending you things." He let it fall back onto her bed, flicking his fingers as if he was trying to remove any traces of the gift from them. "It's weird."

Bella stopped packing, leaning over to brush his cheek with her hand. "He's just a friend, Tyler."

"Friends don't send friends presents worth hundreds of pounds, Bella. He clearly fancies you; Christ, the guy can hardly take his eyes off you. He looks at you like you're a piece of steak and he's on a starvation diet."

She choked back a laugh. "Tyler, you know there's nothing going on there. He lives thousands of miles away, and I'm with you. Have a little faith, okay?" Leaning forward, she touched her lips against his. "I'm going to be away until Sunday, let's not leave things like this."

"I still don't like it."

Despite her entreaties, his bad mood continued all the way to Paddington Station, where he dropped her off, and she gave him a quick kiss before exiting, feeling his irritation as he responded with a quick peck. She had barely pushed the car door closed before he sped off, and she watched the car as it disappeared into the London traffic, her worry for her relationship with Tyler reflected in the anxious nausea gripping her stomach.

As soon as she was on the train, she breathed a sigh of relief, deciding that she would worry about their argument when she was back in London. She touched her pocket to check that Edward's letter was still there, and pulled it out to read, one more time.

_June 20__th__ 2002_

_Dear Bella,_

_Thank you for the present. After all these years, to finally receive the promised mixed tape made me grin madly, and then I read the track listing and laughed out loud. Starting with 'Wall Street Shuffle' may have seemed rather obvious, but to follow it with 'Money for Nothing' by Dire Straits was an inspired touch. Your final song, Puff Daddy's 'All About the Benjamins' is actually one of my favorites._

_Anyway, to thank you for your gift, you'll be pleased to see that I spent a few Benjamins on a t-shirt for you. I'm not sure if you are a New York Dolls fan or not, but just seeing it made me think of you, and the night we saw The Strokes. _

_Let's do it again soon, okay?_

_Edward._

She swallowed hard; her reaction to the letter was the same as it had been the first time she'd read it. In recent months he had started to openly flirt with her—by both email and letter—and a part of her was soaking it up like a sponge. Yet she knew that even if it was just a harmless dalliance, Tyler wouldn't see it that way, and she was on dangerous ground. She just didn't know what to do for the best.

Because the thought of cutting Edward off felt like a sharp kick to her stomach.

. . .

Sitting in the backstage bar of the Glastonbury Music Festival, Bella watched as Jasper Whitlock crossed the room and placed five ice cold bottles of Stella Artois on the sticky plastic table in front of them. She picked one up and leaned back on the flimsy folding chair, necking a huge gulp of beer, much to the amusement of the rest of the band.

"So, what did you think?" Jasper asked, trying to appear nonchalant as he pulled up another chair, placing it right alongside Bella, so that their thighs were almost touching.

"On the record, or off?" Bella teased, fingering the backstage journalist pass that hung around her neck.

Jasper stared at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered her words. "Whichever I'm going to like the best."

"I'm kidding, you goof." She was smiling broadly now. "You were absolutely fantastic. I loved the new set, it was brilliant. You had the crowd hanging on every note."

"Were we better than Coldplay?" Riley, the bass guitarist, was leaning forward now, his chin placed on top of his palms as he looked at Bella with clear, wide eyes.

She couldn't believe how interested they were in her opinion, although the little ego-boost their anticipation gave her was quite welcome. And it wasn't the first time since she'd been at the festival, that a band had genuinely seemed engrossed in what she thought about them. Somehow her judgement had become sought after. She assumed it had something to do with the fact that she was interning for Music Train, and had their logo hanging from her neck everywhere she went. All the bands wanted a good write-up from the nation's most popular music magazine.

"Coldplay were excellent, everybody was singing along to them." Jasper physically blanched at her words, and she hurried to continue, "But you guys were something else. People weren't just singing, they were worshiping. They were throwing themselves down as sacrifices to the gods of rock."

A broad grin spread across Jasper's face. He stood up, walked over to her, and pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips swooping down on hers with a loud smack. "Sometimes, Bella Swan, I fucking love you. Now make sure you call me a rock god in your review."

"You know that Music Train have proper writers here, right? I'm going to be lucky if they even print an indefinite article without sending it through five editors." She wriggled, in a feigned attempt to escape his grasp. Not that she minded him being overly demonstrative—she was used to it by now. He was like an overenthusiastic five year-old, throwing himself at everybody, not just her

"I spoke with your boss earlier and I promised them an exclusive interview, but only if you wrote it." He winked at her, as he pulled away from her, moving to sit back down.

"Oh my God!" she squealed at him, trying to restrain herself from starting the whole hugging fest again—people were starting to look.

"Oh my Rock God, if you please."

They stared at each other, matching smiles on their faces. It was hard to believe that only two years previously she'd been watching him play in a small pub, and hadn't even had an inkling that he was going to become internationally famous. How things had changed.

"Jasper, sweetie!" A thin, highly pitched voice came from across the room. Bella watched in amusement as a tiny blonde ran over, throwing herself into Jasper's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as she placed her lips firmly on his.

"Is that Jezzika Stanlee?" she asked Riley in a whispered aside.

"Oh yeah, she's been the bane of our existence all summer. Whenever you turn around, she's there. She's been hovering around us like a fly over a pile of shit."

"Nice synonym. Especially when you compare yourselves to manure," she replied dryly, watching as Jasper sat back down on his chair, pulling Jezzika onto his lap. Bella bit her bottom lip in an attempt to stop from giggling, causing Jasper to raise his eyebrows in response.

"Are you not singing today?" Riley drawled over at the blonde. Jezzika giggled and shook her head, before burying it in the side of Jasper's head, nuzzling at his throat. Bella noticed a flash of something just underneath the surface of his eyes. And all of a sudden she realized that Jasper Whitlock was smitten; with a Z list celebrity, an erstwhile loser of that year's Rock Star reality show.

Bella tried to restrain the wide smirk that was trying to unzip its way across her lips, because she knew that Jasper would think she was mocking him, even though she wasn't. In fact, a little corner of her heart was heating up fast at the sight of her friend being bowled over by a woman.

"Jezzie, this is Bella Swan, one of my oldest friends." Jasper looked up and winked at Bella.

"You don't look that old." Jezzika replied, her face frowning in confusion. Bella heard Riley start to guffaw next to her.

"No, sweetie, she's not an old friend, as in years, she's old as in I've known her for years."

"I'm twenty." Bella decided this would be easier if she just came out with it.

Jezzika repaid Bella's frank reply with a dazzling smile, and suddenly Bella could see exactly what Jasper saw in her. Her face was open and guileless, and even if she didn't appear to have too much going on between her ears, whatever was there seemed kind and friendly.

"Have you two known each other long?" Bella asked, suddenly very interested in the reply, because she had a feeling she was going to be able to live off this story for the next few months.

"We met at the Rock Star wrap party. Jazzie came up and told me that he'd voted for me a hundred times every week.

And the need to laugh washed over Bella again, because she could just see what the tabloids were going to call them, once they got wind of the relationship. Jazzie and Jezzie were going to be paparazzi fodder of the highest order.

. . .

Her evening was spent typing up her article on the ancient laptop that Music Train had loaned her, and then going through it with Katie Dean, a staff journalist on the magazine who had taken Bella under her wing.

"What are you thinking of the line-up so far?" Katie asked as she pulled a biro out of her mouth and started to scribble furiously on the paper copy of Bella's article.

"Better than last year."

They both laughed, because there had been no festival in 2001, mainly due to the Foot and Mouth epidemic that had swept across the English countryside.

"I was here in ninety-seven when Radiohead played the Pyramid stage. It was absolutely electrifying. Every other festival has seemed a bit tame in comparison." Kate flicked her dirty-blonde hair back over her shoulder, chewing on the plastic of her pen as she stared into the distance. "It's so lovely to see you enjoy this; I can remember being twenty and being able to stay up all night watching bands. By the time you get to my age, all you really look forward to is a cup of cocoa and an early night."

The grin continued to plaster itself across Bella's face. Since she had met Katie the previous month, she'd developed a bit of a girl crush on her. The forty-year-old had the attitude—and the stamina—of somebody half her age, and her glamorous rock-chic style still had the guys throwing themselves at her feet. She was exactly who Bella wanted to be when she grew up.

"The day you go to bed early with a hot chocolate is the day the world explodes."

Katie winked, and then looked back down at Bella's article. "This is really good; you have a talent for it. Have you thought about what you are going to do when you graduate?"

It was an excellent question, and Bella considered giving a trite response. But she knew that Katie was genuinely interested in what Bella wanted from life, and she respected her too much to feed her with bullshit.

"I don't know. I mean, I know I want to write about music, because I can't think about anything else, but as to where I'm going to write, and how, I haven't quite worked that out yet."

"You could do worse than join Music Train."

Bella looked up and straight into Katie's baby blues. "I'm not sure I'm good enough for that."

"You'll be a shoo-in. I called Marcus today to let him know how well you're getting on, and he seemed pretty impressed with your work so far. We take on a new graduate every now and then, and I can't see why he wouldn't choose you. You have more talent in your little finger than half the staff journalists have going on in their whole bodies."

Bella blushed at Katie's frank assessment, and at the thought of Marcus Vee, the Music Train editor, taking an interest in her work. Because to get a job on the staff of the magazine would be like a dream come true, and that sort of stuff didn't happen to girls like her. Not unless they were called Cinderella.

Her mind was clouded with memories of the previous year, as she recalled Edward's excitement at moving out to California and starting up his own internet business. Then the thought of September 11 came swooping out of nowhere, and she felt her legs begin to shake in response.

"You okay?" Kate's face was the picture of concern.

Bella breathed in deeply, reminding herself that her father and Edward were safe. "Yeah, I think I'm just reacting to going an hour without a beer in my hand. It's like my body's revolting against sobriety."

"I know a remedy for that."

"I know you do." Bella grinned at Kate, and they locked away their computers before walking over to the backstage bar. She admired the white canvas canopy, lit up with a covering of fairy lights, making it look more like a wedding venue than the setting for drunkenness and debauchery. In one corner Bella could see Jasper, still sitting with Jezzika, the two of them seemingly cocooned in their own little world. Over to the other side the Strokes were standing in a small group, holding shot glasses and celebrating their successful Glastonbury debut. Kate took her hand and dragged her over to the middle of the tent, their bodies moving in time to the faint beat of music coming from the Pyramid stage.

"Are you looking forward to going home?" Kate asked as they pushed their way through the warm bodies. It seemed like every single band had congregated here to celebrate their successful appearances.

"Not really, but at least I'll get to see my mum and Tyler." Bella's felt her stomach turn as she thought about her boyfriend. They'd hardly seen each other all summer, what with Bella's vacation internship, and the fact that Tyler had to work late every night. And the bad terms with which they had parted the day before made her feel nauseous.

"Are you going straight to his place?"

"I wasn't going to, but now that you mention it, that would be a good idea. He won't be working on a Sunday." And she was determined to make the most of the little time they had left together, before she went back to Nottingham for her final year.

"Well, I shall be picking up Tinkers from the cattery and spending the evening watching shitty reality TV"

"Sounds perfect." Bella winked. "Maybe we should make the most of the time we have left here."

"I agree. Let's go and talk to the Charlatans. They're bound to buy us a drink."

. . .

Getting off the train in Paddington, Bella walked her way up the platform and out of the main doors, choosing to treat herself to a taxi, rather than try and navigate the vagaries of the Sunday schedule on the tube. The drive to Earls Court only took ten minutes, and she didn't even flinch as she handed the driver a crisp ten pound note and told him to keep the change.

Tyler's flat was on a road dominated by three-story Victorian terraced houses, all long since fallen to decay, and converted into lucrative flats. Bella looked up to his window on the second floor, noticing that he hadn't bothered to open the curtains this morning; maybe he hadn't even managed to get up yet. Even at University he hadn't been a morning person, and now, if he didn't have to go somewhere on the weekend, he found it increasingly difficult to drag his ass out of bed. She hoped that his mood had improved since last week; or at least he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Rifling through her handbag, she found the front door key, and let herself in, trying not to breathe in the rancid, damp air that lingered in the hallway. Swinging her backpack onto her shoulder, she stepped onto the threadbare carpet of the stairs, slowly walking up to the second floor, her muscles feeling leaden in reaction to the sudden exertion. She wanted nothing more than to jump in his admittedly tiny shower, then crawl under the covers with him for a couple of hours, and let sleep wash away her tiredness.

The apartment was silent as she let herself in, and she realized that her first supposition—that he hadn't even bothered getting up—was the correct one, because his wallet and keys were still on the counter of his tiny kitchen. Pushing his bedroom door open, her eyes adjusted slowly to the gloom of the curtained room, as she placed her rucksack down beside the door and walked over to his bed.

Her legs reacted before her mind did, as if they sensed the wrongness of the moment. She stopped suddenly, seeing the two of them sleeping, their naked bodies entwined beneath the draping covers of the thin white sheet. Tyler's arm was flung across the woman's waist, his head buried in her neck as he gently breathed; his slumbering face a picture of innocence.

She felt numb as she surveyed the scene. She recognized the woman, they'd met a few times when Bella had joined Tyler and his work mates in the pub on a Friday night. He had introduced her as his boss, and the two of them had barely interacted during all the times she had seen them together. But now the connection was way too close for comfort, and Bella bit her lip in an attempt to quiet the cry that was trying to escape her throat.

Fight or flight? She bit her thumbnail, her face screwed up with misery, as she tried to decide the best thing to do. Should she confront them, before they had time to make up a story to cover up their indiscretions? Or should she run and leave the room with a small modicum of her dignity intact?

Her mind was made up for her, as Tyler moved languorously, lifting his arm from the woman's waist and stretching it over his head, his eyes opening slowly and blinkingly, as they reacted to the dim light. Raising his head from the pillow, he looked over at Bella and smiled, opening his mouth to say something before he looked down and saw the naked woman lying beside him.

The look of horror that crossed his face was almost comical.

"What the fuck?"

"I think that's supposed to be my line." Bella's voice sounded surprisingly controlled to her, as she surveyed the mess that was her relationship.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in Glastonbury?" he asked, pulling the sheet up to cover their naked bodies. A bark of laughter wound its way up her larynx as she realized that he was trying to put the fault straight back onto her. And then the laughter was replaced by a sob, and she knew she had to get out of there right now.

Reason had kicked into her brain, punching its way through the numbness, and she turned around to pick up her backpack before walking out through his bedroom door. She could hear him shouting at her, but she didn't reply, just increasing her pace until she crossed the few feet to his front door, and pulled at the handle.

It was like her whole body had been hit hard. Her muscles felt tight and edgy as she ran down the stairs, barely even feeling the weight of her backpack as she moved, her heart beating fast and in response to the shock of seeing them there. She had no idea how she made it outside without falling over.

She wanted to slap the palm of her hand right across Tyler Crowley's face, until she heard the satisfying thwack of his teeth hitting his inner cheek. And she wanted to climb up into her mum's lap like she was five years old again, and a simple cuddle would erase all of the hurt.

But most of all, she needed to go home, and crawl into her little single bed, pull the duvet over her head and bawl her eyes out.

* * *

**A/N -MidnightCougar wrote a fantastic review of Fix You on Tehlemonadestand dot com this week - thank you so much, I loved it. And thank you to everybody who has read, reviewed and recommended this story - I really appreciate it.**

**Many thanks to SunflowerFran for beta'ing, and to SparrowNotes24 and Cutestkidsmom for pre-reading.  
**

**If you fancy a chat, come see me on twitter and Facebook, (links on my profile).  
**

******Thanks for reading, have a great weekend. **


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**January 2003**

"I need you to arrange that meeting, and then we should work on the presentation with somebody from corporate communications." Edward glanced up at his PA as she wrote rapidly on her small notepad, her head bent over so that all he could see was the crown of her dark hair, a small white line across the top denoting her parting.

"I'll give them a call." Heidi stood up, picking up the blue folder that was in front of her and started to walk out of his office. "Would you like a coffee?"

"A coffee would be great." Waking up his laptop, Edward clicked onto his email account, pleased to see that everything important had already been dealt with. He knew he was lucky to have Heidi; she was an experienced assistant, capable of handling anything, and the fact that she was able to work long hours despite having teenaged children was a bonus.

Standing up, he walked over to the wall of glass that stretched across the entire south side of his office. Being on the fifteenth floor, it afforded him an impressive outlook of Lower Manhattan, and he could see all the way out to the port. The view of the office buildings, contrasting with the natural beauty of the waterway was breath-taking, and it was probably what had sold the office space to him in the first place.

He guessed he was fortunate that the office was so pleasant, as he seemed to spend most of his waking hours in here. Since taking control of Black Enterprises, his life had turned into one endless Groundhog Day of waking at five, running in Central Park, then showering and being driven to work before seven. He'd be in meetings, conferences, lunches and presentations until the evening, and then responding to emails, writing reports and catching up on correspondence until late, barely getting home before midnight.

And yet, despite the hard work, and the lack of sleep, there was a part of Edward Cullen that loved his new life; the excitement of the chase and the jubilation when a deal was struck. Coupled with the knowledge that he was not only rebuilding Black Enterprises, but also making it even greater than when William had been chief, was something got him through the endless days and restless nights.

The way he had taken to corporate life had surprised even him.

His telephone buzzed, and he walked back to his desk and pushed the button.

"Yes Heidi?"

"I have your mother on the phone. Would you like to talk to her?"

Edward grimaced slightly before responding. "Sure, put her on."

A couple of clicks and a moment later, and Elizabeth's smooth tones came down the wire and out of the speaker.

"Edward, how are you?"

"I'm good. Busy as always. How are things with you?"

"I just got back from seeing Jacob. He seems so much better, whatever they're doing with him at the new clinic seems to have calmed him down. He asked for you a couple of times, and I told him that you might be able to get there at the weekend."

"I've saved some time on Sunday, and if I get Jack to drive me, I'll be able to make some calls in the car." It was a two hour drive to the clinic in Hartford, Connecticut, and not a trip that Edward had managed to make every week, despite his best intentions.

"He is still talking about selling his share of the company to you. I'm not sure if he's serious or not."

Edward shook his head, sitting down hard on his black leather office chair. "I'm not going to buy the damn company from him. For one, all I'll be doing is funding a later relapse, and that's not something I'm prepared to do. Secondly, William left Black Enterpises to Jacob because he wanted him to lead it one day. I'm hoping I can still make that happen."

"Edward, we both know that he is never going to be well enough to head up the company, and having control still gives him money, for goodness sake. Not to mention the fact that you holding the fort for him makes him feel incredibly guilty. You'd be doing him a favor."

"Some favor. Is there anything else you wanted?" He was aware that his voice was curt, but if he didn't cut her off now, she'd just keep on hacking away at him until he agreed with her. He wasn't willing to go there, yet.

"Are you coming over to dinner tonight? One of my old friends is in town, visiting with her daughter for a few days."

He couldn't help but sigh. All year, his mother had been trying to get him to come to dinner with various girls—always daughters of her friends, and always extremely eligible. But he didn't have the time or the inclination to make small talk with yet another society girl. It was getting harder to feign any interest in the very appropriate string of girls his mother was intent on parading in front of him.

"Not tonight, I'm afraid. I have to work late."

"You're always working late, darling. Why not give yourself a break?"

"I can't, we're working on a big deal. Maybe next week, I'll ask Heidi to check the diary."

Sensing defeat, Elizabeth ended the call with a few platitudes, and extracted a promise from him to call her on Sunday, after he'd seen Jacob.

Hanging up the phone, his intercom buzzed again. He pushed the button, wondering if a few uninterrupted minutes were too much to wish for.

"Yes?"

"Edward, I have a young lady out here who claims to be your sister?"

He frowned, wondering what the hell Alice was doing in New York. Then he scowled as he remembered that it was Esme's mother's ninetieth birthday that weekend, and that the whole family had travelled over to celebrate with her. How could he have forgotten that?

"Tell Alice to come in."

His door opened, and his sister walked in, a huge grin plastering her face. She'd grown again since he'd last seen her, and he shook his head at the sudden realization that his baby sister was a teenager. Jesus Christ, where had the time gone?

"Edward!" She suddenly turned back into his little girl as she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his waist and nuzzling into his chest. "I can't believe how long it's been since I've seen you. You've been neglecting me." All these words were said with a straight face, but he couldn't help but curl his mouth up in response.

"Hey squirt." He paused, his eyes searching out the expression on her face. "Am I even allowed to call you that anymore?"

"Not in public." Her face had turned a brighter shade of pink, as her voice turned into a whisper, "but I don't mind you saying it in private. In fact I still kind of like it."

"If you catch me doing it, just hit me or something. I'm getting old; my memory isn't what it used to be." He ruffled her hair affectionately.

"Anyway, I have been sent up here on a very important mission." Alice's voice was serious, her face a picture of gravity as she outlined her reasons for being there. "I am to ask you to join us for lunch, and then I need to put a pouty expression on my face until you say yes, because Mum tells me that when I beg I'm irresistible."

"You're calling yourself irresistible, seriously?" His mind took a worrying turn as he started to think about how irresistible she might be to teenage boys. Even the thought was enough to make his blood boil.

"No, you didn't listen properly. Mum says I'm irresistible, I didn't say that."

Thinking back over her words, he realized it was true.

"Where are the rest of them anyway?" Now that he knew they were all here, in his hometown, he was suddenly desperate to see his family.

"Dad has a meeting at the bank and will be joining us at the restaurant, and Mum and Bella are shopping."

"Bella's here?" His heart started beating harder, and he bit his lip in an effort to not give Alice an outward sign of his reaction. He hadn't seen her in over a year, and the thought of her in the same city as him made his stomach clench.

"Yeah, Mum gave her the flight here as a Christmas present. She has to go back to University next week, so this is her final bit of fun."

"How is she?" They'd exchanged some emails, but ever since the break-up with Tyler he'd found it hard to hit the right tone with her.

"She seems much better now. She spent most of last summer crying, and even I noticed that she had lost weight, and I never pay any attention to anything like that. But since she's been home for Christmas, she seems much happier."

"Did anybody go and beat Tyler up?" Edward smiled to make his sister think he was joking—he wasn't.

"No, although I think that Bella might have slapped him at some point. He tried to win her back with flowers and unexpected visits to her at University. Eventually she called security and had him banned from the campus."

He decided that changing the subject would be the best way forward, because discussing Bella with his sister was just fueling his anger. "How long have we got until lunch then?"

"About an hour, I said we'd meet them at one."

"In that case, I've got a couple of emails to write, and then I'll take you on a tour of the building." Edward pulled her against him again, closing his eyes as he savoured the feeling of having his much-loved sister with him. "And if I didn't say it before, it's great to see you, Squirt."

. . .

When Alice and Edward arrived at "La Trattoria" the rest of the family were already seated around a large round table. His eyes immediately sought out Bella, and as soon as he looked at her face, he caught her staring back at him, with the strangest expression moulding her features. Glancing down, at his dark-blue Gucci suit, and light blue tie, he wondered if he had any food on his clothes, because she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from whatever it was that had caught her attention.

"Hey Son, it's been too long."

Carlisle stood up and threw his arms around Edward, hugging him tightly as he patted his back; a move perfected by fathers the world over. They'd seen each other a couple of times over the past year, and Edward still found it hard to remember their emotional reunion, when Carlisle had flown to New York as soon as he could after 9.11. To see his father cry openly in the middle of the very public airport had made him feel uncomfortable, although at that time, everybody was showing their emotions and wearing their hearts on their sleeves.

Esme stood up and joined in the hug, leaving only Bella still seated, staring at them with a small smile covering her lips. Eventually his parents released him, and he walked over to her, putting his hand out and pulling her up into his arms.

"Hey you," he whispered into her hair as he held her tightly against his chest. He felt her hands circle his waist and fist the fabric of his jacket.

"Hi," she whispered back softly.

"How are you doing?"

"Better, thank you. How are you? Esme tells me that you've become a workaholic."

"I don't really get a choice."

"Well, maybe I can try to cure you over the next few days."

"That sounds intriguing. I'm free tonight." He surprised himself with this invitation; there was no way he was going to get the presentation finished today, and he really needed to use tonight to add the final touches.

"I have to go to my dad's for dinner at seven. Maybe I could meet you afterwards?" The hopeful tone of her voice made Edward smile.

"Why don't you come and meet me at the office then, it'll give me a chance to finish up some stuff before we go and get a drink or something?"

"I can probably get there by about ten, is that too late?" Bella frowned as she waited for his response, watching him as he pulled out the chair beside her and sat down.

"No, that's perfect. We can go to a little place I know down the road from my office, they're open late and serve great cocktails. And since you are now legal, you won't even have to have a virgin one." He allowed himself a smirk at that one, trying not to look at the amused expressions of the rest of his family as they watched him closely.

. . .

Edward was just shutting down his computer when Bella arrived, accompanied by the night security guard. The guard nodded at them both before leaving and walking back to the bank of elevators, leaving the two of them alone.

Edward glanced up at her, taking in the black dress, natural makeup and long brown hair.

"How long ago did you leave the Goth look behind?"

Bella laughed. "I haven't been a Goth since I went to University. I still prefer dressing down, but I didn't want to give my father too much of a heart attack."

"The dress suits you." And it did. It clung to her curves in all the right places; the hem falling at mid-thigh to expose what were arguably her best assets. And for just a moment, Edward allowed himself to indulge in imagining what they would feel like wrapped round his hips.

"You seem to have changed your style too." She was walking over to him now, a small smile dancing across her face as she came to a stop in front of him, and lifted his tie up, her fingers playing with the soft silk. "I don't think your suit came from Marks and Sparks."

"Mark's and Spark's?" Edward shook his head in confusion.

"Marks and Spencers, I'm pretty sure they don't stock Gucci."

"You recognized the designer?"

She laughed out loud now, still holding his tie, and slowly pulled him forward until their faces were almost touching. Then, putting her mouth next to his ear, she slowly breathed, "Emmett told me you won't wear anything else."

Shit, he was getting a hard-on just from feeling her exhalation on his skin. He didn't know whether to just surrender to it, or pull away. Bella made the decision for him, moving back to sit on the chair next to his desk.

"How is all this corporate life treating you, because I have to say it looks good on you?" She was staring at his suit again. He couldn't work out what she found so fascinating about it.

Edward closed his laptop and swiveled around to face her. "You know, I actually love it. I'm learning quickly, people listen to me when I talk, and I make stuff happen. In about three years I might actually know what I'm doing."

"So you don't regret not going to San Francisco?" She was leaning towards him now, her elbows propped on the desk, her chin resting in her hands.

"I try not to think about it. I'm all about looking ahead. Speaking of which, what have you got planned once you graduate?"

Bella smiled broadly, her eyes dancing as she thought about her own future. "I've been offered a job on Music Train, the magazine I interned with last summer."

"Wow, that's excellent news. We should celebrate."

"Yes we should," she agreed.

They stood up and he took her hand, as they walked to the elevator, keen to get out of the office and finally spend together.

A few drinks later, and he'd managed to get her to open up about Tyler. Edward wasn't sure why he was so keen to hear about their split; whether it was out of genuine concern for his friend, or if he just wanted confirmation that everything was really over. Either way, he sat in the booth with Bella, his arm loosely around her shoulders, as she leaned against him, her face screwed up as she tried to explain her emotions.

"…He kept trying to explain that he only slept with her because he was afraid of his feelings for me. That he thought I wasn't committed to the relationship, and he wanted to show me that he didn't give a fuck. And then he'd just go and change his mind and tell me that it was a complete mistake, and that he was out of his mind with alcohol. He wouldn't even tell me if it was a one-off or if the relationship had been going on for some time."

Edward grimaced, knowing that from Tyler's lack of candor, it had to be the latter.

"So is that why you had to call security on him?"

Bella laughed. "No, I had to call security on him because he started shouting out declarations of love in the middle of the campus at two in the morning. When I told him to piss off, he said that he wasn't going to go anywhere, because I'm the love of his life and he needed me. So I called security and they dragged him away."

Bella turned to look Edward straight in the eye. Her face was only a few inches from his, and he could see the intensity of her emotions swirling beneath the chocolate brown of her eyes. Opening his mouth to reply, he found himself suddenly struck dumb by the sudden intimacy developing between them. His expression softened as he gazed back at her, watching her skin react to their closeness, a flush turning the apples of her cheeks to bright red.

Some moments passed as they stared, and he could feel the familiar yearning start to tug at his stomach. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and lightly brushed his fingertips across her cheek. She continued to look straight at him, her eyes unblinking.

"I think we need to leave." Her voice choked; her neck bobbing visibly as she tried to swallow.

"I'll take you home," he agreed, grabbing his jacket, patting his trouser pockets to make sure his wallet and keys were there.

"I want you to take me home with you." She looked surprised at her own words, her eyebrows rising up and the flush in her cheeks deepening.

"Bella…" He wanted to kick himself for hesitating, but he refused to be anybody's rebound fuck. "I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"Edward, this is a fabulous idea." She cupped her hand around the back of his head, pulling his face towards hers, and only hesitating when her lips were millimeters away from his. He could feel his breath hitch at her close proximity, the familiar tightness starting to stir in his boxers.

The warmth of her breath bathed his skin, and he closed his eyes, trying to remember the last time his body felt as alive as it did right now. Her fingers continued to play with the hair at the base of his neck, sending shivers down his spine and making resistance almost impossible.

"Let's go." His voice was thick, his heart was racing.

And he knew that no matter what happened tonight, there would be no turning back from this.

There was no way that they could ever be just friends again.

* * *

**A/N Sunflowerfran betas, Sparrownotes24 and Cutestkidsmom preread, and I'm so grateful to all of them.**

**Thank you for reading and for all your reviews, I appreciate them. If you want to chat, come join me on Facebook or twitter, links are in my profile.**


	17. Chapter 16

**Fix You Chapter 16**

**January 2003**

As soon as she stepped over the threshold, Bella felt all the bravado seeping out of her body, like air whistling out of a slow puncture. Pulling her soft lip between her teeth, she rolled it back and forth until the tender skin inside her mouth began to protest.

"Can I get you a drink?" Edward had taken his jacket off, and the sleeves of his white cotton shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows, revealing the downy-hair covering his forearms. She watched the muscle flex, making a sinewy line all the way down to his wrist.

Did she want a drink? She wasn't sure, although she knew she'd be grateful for the distraction, and maybe if he walked over to the open kitchen in the far corner of his loft apartment, the nagging desperate feeling in her head would dissipate, and she might actually be able to think for a moment.

"A glass of water would be nice."

He didn't move, just stood a couple of feet away from her, half smiling, as his soft green eyes stared right into her own.

"You really want some water?"

"I would really like a glass of water, Edward. In fact, I've been looking forward to a nice drink of h2o all day."

"Not wine, not beer, not a cocktail. You want water." His voice was deadpan, although the crinkling of the corner of his eyes gave his amusement away.

"If you're going to be an asshole about it, what I really want is a cup of tea. But I assumed that a nice American like you wouldn't stock PG Tips, so I decided to go easy on you."

"I have tea."

"I don't believe you." She placed her hands on her hips, a small smile flashing across her face as his eyebrows raised, his expression screaming 'bring it on'.

"I have teabags, I have milk, and I even have a teapot somewhere. My stepmother is an anglophile, Bella. So, would you like a cup of tea?"

Instead of moving towards the kitchen, he took a step towards her, that crooked half-grin still plastered across his face, his hand reaching out to touch her on her bare upper-arm. His finger traced a line of fire from her shoulder to her elbow, the softness of his touch sending a shiver all the way down to the base of her spine.

"I think I'll have a cup of tea later."

"Really?" He closed the gap between them, his body just inches from her now. His hand moved around to the small of her back, and he placed it flat against her, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin material of her dress. For a moment they both stood there, unmoving, and Bella could feel her body start to hum in reaction to his proximity. Lifting her head up, she looked straight into his eyes, uncertain whether she was challenging him or begging him.

"Yes." She wasn't sure whether she was replying to his question, or just urging him on.

Everything felt different, and everything felt the same. Because he was her old friend; someone she had laughed with, and played with, and kissed. But the Edward standing in front of her was all man. And that suit, oh God that suit; when she had set eyes on him as he walked into the restaurant earlier that day, it was like her whole body had been set on fire. She was stuck somewhere between familiarity and discomposure, feeling strangely anxious and yet knowing that no matter what happened, she wouldn't regret this.

"Are you sure?" His hand pulled her towards him, closing the gap, until her chest was just touching his abdomen, the rest of her body barely skimming his. She couldn't see his face now, her eyes reaching only up to the dip in the base of his neck, slightly exposed by the unbuttoned crisp collar of his white shirt.

"Absolutely."

She wanted to bury herself in his skin, inhale his scent, rub her nose against his flesh.

So she did.

And then she moved her lips to the small exposed part of his chest, feeling his hair tickle her lips, before she kissed him harder, sucking gently at his skin, and then letting her tongue lazily drag its way along the soft dip under his collar.

"Bella." His voice cracked, and he placed his thumb under her chin, pulling her face up as he leaned his down, until they met in the middle. She was already regretting taking her heels off, because their difference in height was making her have to stand on her tiptoes, just to try and equal things out. She placed her hands on his shoulders, her fingers splaying across the white of his shirt, using him as leverage to bridge the final gap between his lips and hers.

When there was only a millimeter between them, she felt him sigh against her, before he crushed his mouth to hers, any gentleness forgotten in the need to touch, to taste, to consume. His hand pressed hard against the back of her head, pulling her closer until their teeth were almost scraping together, her mouth opening as soon as she felt the tip of his tongue running along her lip, her own moving out to dance against it, to pull him inside of her, the need coursing through her veins.

Her hand brushed against his cheek, touching the soft emerging stubble peppering his skin, and she pushed her body firmly against his, wanting to feel his reaction, hoping that he was as aroused as she was right now.

"Jesus." He pulled his lips away from hers, leaning back so he had a clear line of sight to her face, his hand still cupping her head as he stared down at her, the intensity in his eyes making her feel breathless. "Bella, this is just..." He shook his head, unable to articulate his thoughts, and she suddenly felt the need to justify herself.

"I know we said we wouldn't do this. And I know that you probably think I'm on some kind of rebound from Tyler. But I've been thinking about this all day, and he was just a rebound from you—"

"Would you shut up about Tyler when I'm trying to seduce you?"

"Sorry." She inwardly kicked herself, wondering what the hell she was thinking even mentioning his name, because if Edward had mentioned an ex in this situation, she'd be hopping mad.

"Come back here." He moved his hands around and grabbed both of hers, walking backwards towards the couch as he pulled her, the smile still playing around his lips. Bella padded softly across the bare wooden floor, and then came to a stop as he lay down on the couch, pulling her on top of him.

She had to hitch her dress up to be able to place her legs on either side of his hips, and suddenly she realized that she was in control. Edward was just lying there, staring up at her, waiting for her to make her move. And she loved that he was ready to let her set the pace, to cede the decision to her, and she knew for a fact that she wouldn't be leaving this apartment until she'd had him.

Multiple times.

Sitting back on him, she undid his buttons one by one; each time pulling his shirt a little more open until eventually his chest was revealed. Sliding her hand down his abdomen, she could feel the hard muscles of his pecs, then the ribbing of his stomach as he tensed beneath her touch. He was breathing rapidly, his body moving up and down under her hand as she dragged her finger down his happy trail until she reached the buckle of his belt.

"May I?" She glanced up at him, catching his eyes as he smirked up at her. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, his fingers curling around it as he halted her progression.

"Wait." He pushed himself up until he was sitting, his face close to hers. "I want to see you first." He pulled at the hem of her dress, and she lifted herself up as he dragged it up her stomach, and over her arms, until she was left straddling him, clad only in her bra and panties.

He looked at her, a strangled moan escaping from his lips as he moved his arms around her, unclasping her bra with an ease that would have worried her, if her mind hadn't been on other things. Shrugging his open shirt off, and throwing it to the floor along with her dress, he pulled her up against him, until their bare chests were touching, flesh against flesh, the sensation of his body on hers causing her nipples to harden. He moved his lips to her breasts, sucking at each in turn, flicking his tongue over them until her strangled moans caused him to lift her from him and onto her back, his body drawn to hers like a magnet.

She was fumbling at his buckle again, this time managing to get it undone before she grasped at the button on his fly, her fingers shaking as she tried to undo it. She could feel him smile against her skin as his hands moved down to help her, easily unfastening his pants and shucking them off his legs.

Moving back on top, he aligned his body with hers, and she could feel the prominent ridge of his erection through the fabric of their underwear as he rocked against her, and at that moment all she could think of was the need to feel him inside of her.

"Edward please…"

She was rotating her hips against him, and he bent down to kiss her again, as his right hand moved underneath her behind to cup it, and grind against her some more. "I need to—"

"Soon."

He moved his lips down to a place on her neck, just beneath her jaw, that was so sensitive that she nearly squealed in delight. "Let me take care of you."

Sitting back on his knees, he dragged his hands along the side of her body until he reached her panties, hooking his thumbs through them and pulling them down her legs. As soon as they were off, he grasped her legs and pulled her towards him, his lips brushing against her inner thighs as he moved them up, until he could start to kiss and lick at her, making Bella squirm at his touch. Letting her head fall back, she moved her hand down, her fingers tangling in his soft, thick hair as she felt him hum against her, the pleasure of the vibrations shooting through her core.

Just as he was bringing her to the edge, he pulled his mouth away, and through her half shut eyes she watched him lean down to grab a condom from the pocket of his discarded pants, and roll it on to his cock in one easy flick of the wrist. Moving back to her, he lined their bodies up until he entered her with one smooth thrust of his hips, the sudden feeling of fullness causing her to tip over, her whole body stiffening in response to her orgasm, her back arching against him as he held her close, kissing her madly as she gasped into his mouth.

"Fuuucckk." That was Edward, because Bella's mind was so full that she was finding it hard to remember her own name, let along articulate any words.

"Sweetheart, are you ready?" he asked.

"Mmnfggh." Letting her fall back on the couch, he grasped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft skin as he started to move inside her, his lips never leaving hers as he began to fuck hard, each move punctuated by a soft pant that made Bella's heart thud.

She moved her arms around him, her own hands clasping his ass, feeling the muscles flexing as he moved, encouraging him to go faster, harder, as she pulled him against her. He was getting breathless how, he had to pull his mouth away from her to gasp for air, and she got a good look at his expression, his green eyes dark with lust, his face betraying the pleasure he was feeling. Her body was still tingling, little bursts of ecstasy shooting down to her feet, making her toes curl in reaction.

"God, Bella, I'm going to—"

"I want to feel you come." Her words were just a whisper, but she wanted him to have it all, to feel as good as he'd made her feel, and his movements got harsher, until he suddenly stopped, a deep moan releasing from his mouth, before his body weight crashed down on hers, his mouth crushing against her as he lazily thrust a couple more times.

Bella held him tightly, unwilling to let him go, to let him withdraw from her when she was feeling so raw. As if he understood her vulnerability, he began to move his lips against her face, her neck, whispering sweet words as they slowly came back to reality. She ran her fingertips up and down his spine, loving the feeling of his body on hers, not caring that he was crushing her. She felt him slowly pull out of her, his lips still on her skin, his hand moving down to protect the condom.

"Bella, I need to take care of…" He stood up, moving over to a door on the other side of the apartment that she could only assume led to the bathroom. Alone on his couch, she was aware of her nakedness, but couldn't bring herself to put on her underwear and dress, unwilling to admit that the evening was over. Instead she plucked his shirt from the pile of discarded clothes, slipping her arms into it and doing up a couple of buttons to maintain some semblance of modesty. Hearing the bathroom door click, she looked up to see Edward approaching, a small white towel wrapped around his hips, a smile playing on his lips as his eyes darkened in response to her clothing.

"Nice shirt."

"Thank you. Nice towel."

"I just had it dry cleaned yesterday." He was in front of her, pulling her up until she was firmly in his arms, his body cradling hers as he hugged her, his face buried in her hair as he mumbled, "I'll go get you that cup of tea now."

. . .

As Bella sat on his kitchen stool, her hands wrapped around the mug of tea he had handed to her a moment earlier, she watched him move naturally around the kitchen, looking for something to tame their hunger.

"I ought to go back to the apartment, your parents will be wondering where I am," she said, referring to the home that Carlisle and Esme maintained for their visits to Manhattan.

"You're not going anywhere tonight. I'll call them and explain." He placed a plate of cookies in front of her, and she eagerly picked one up, cramming it into her mouth as she watched him dial his cell phone.

"Esme, it's me." He took a cookie and bit a chunk off, chewing as he talked. "Bella's going to stay over tonight; I'll bring her back in the morning."

There was a pause as Esme replied to him, whatever she said causing a sly grin to form on his face.

"I know, I'll make sure to do that." He lifted Bella's mug of tea out of her hands and took a sip, winking at her through the steam rising from the lip of the cup.

"Okay, Esme, I hear you. See you tomorrow." Dropping the phone on the kitchen work-top, he leaned across the breakfast bar until his lips were touching Bella's, brushing against them in a chaste kiss. "I don't think they're very happy with me."

Bella smirked back. "I bet she said something like 'be careful, that girl's been hurt enough.'"

"That's exactly what she said." Edward's face crinkled in surprise. "How did you know?"

She shrugged. "Women's intuition."

"You know I'm not going to hurt you, right?" His forehead crinkled into a frown. He was still close enough for her to feel his warm breath bathing her skin.

"I know." She kissed him again, moving her lips against him, her tongue tangling with his as the kiss deepened. "I guess we're going to have to talk about stuff at some point."

"Not tonight. I've waited too long to have you, I want to take you to bed and do this all over again first." He walked around the counter and stood in front of her, pulling her legs around his hips. It was like he couldn't get enough of her; his constant need to touch her felt amazing.

"Sounds good to me." She put down the mug of tea, leaving the half-finished cookie on her plate, as she wrapped her legs tightly around him, enjoying his gasp in response to the friction of her groin against his. Placing his hands under her behind, he lifted her against him, walking her over to what she assumed was his bedroom, pushing open the oak and glass door, before stepping inside, and placing her down on the soft comforter that covered his leather-upholstered bed.

"As much as I like you in my clothes," he said, as his fingers moved to the front of the shirt she was wearing, deftly unfastening the three buttons, "I definitely prefer you out of them."

"As much as I like to look at your body," she replied, as she pulled the towel from his hips, then circling her fingers around his erection, "I much prefer certain parts of it inside of me."

"Your wish is my command, Miss Swan." He reached into the drawer beside his bed and removed another condom, his eyes never leaving her face as he rolled it onto himself.

"In that case, Mr. Cullen, could you shut up and get on with it please?"

* * *

**A/N Sunflowerfran betas, Sparrownotes24 and Cutestkidsmom preread, and they never fail to make me smile.**

**Thank you for reading and for all your reviews, I love reading them, and respond whenever I can. If you want to chat, come join me on Facebook or twitter, links are in my profile. **


	18. Chapter 17

**Fix You Chapter 17**

**January 2003**

The two-and-a-half hour drive to Connecticut should have given him plenty of time to finish up the project. He was sitting in the back of the SUV, his laptop balanced on his thighs, mellow music playing over the superior car stereo. But every time he tried to concentrate on the screen in front of him, he found his eyes wandering to the left.

"Stop looking at me," Bella admonished, her hand waving at his laptop in an effort to get him to work.

"I can't stop it."

"Pretend I'm not here, or that I'm your secretary or something."

"You're really not helping." A half smile pulled at his lips. "Now I'm just having dirty visions of you in a skirt and stockings, climbing on top of my lap."

"And there I was thinking that Heidi just manages your diary." Bella smirked, turning her head deliberately away from him, staring out of the window while her fingers tapped in tune to the music. She had given the CD to his driver as soon as she'd sat down in the car—explaining that it was a demo that a friend had sent her—wanting to listen to the soft California sound of The Thrills.

"This seems much more laid back than your usual taste in music," Edward remarked, more to get a response from her than to make a point.

"What can I say? I have eclectic tastes. Jasper asked me to review them as a favor, and I kind of owe him one."

Edward bit back a grimace and went back to staring at the spread sheet in front of him. Hearing another guy's name on her lips made the red mist start to descend; God only knew how he was going to be able to cope when she was living a continent away from him. Over the last few days, he'd spent every available moment with Bella Swan. Eyes had been raised at Black Enterprises when he'd brought her into the office with him on Friday, insisting that she stay with him while he made some business calls. Only when he had to attend a meeting had he grudgingly agreed to let her wander down the street and poke through the sales racks of Century 21, while waiting for him to join her for lunch.

They'd never made it back to the office afterwards.

"Did I say something wrong?" She turned so she was directly facing him, he could feel her eyes burning into his skin.

"No, I was just thinking that these guys sound like the Beach Boys on weed, or maybe the Monkees. Either way the whole California thing is a bit much."

Bella started to laugh, leaning back on the plush, leather seat. "Have you ever thought of chucking the whole Donald Trump thing and just becoming a music critic? Because that is pure gold."

"I'd hate to do you out of a job, sweetheart." He pushed his laptop closed, leaned over and brought her face to his. "Now, can I suggest a better use for that smart mouth of yours?"

"I'm intrigued to find out what you have planned." She moved forward until they were barely touching his. "I hope you're keeping it PG-13, because Jack really can't turn the music up much louder."

"I knew I should have insisted on the Strokes." Placing his hand behind her head, he kissed her until they were both breathless and unable to talk any more. "At least they're noisy."

Minutes later the car pulled up in front of the clinic; a large, brick built house set in lush, green grounds, surrounded on three sides by a well-kept lawn. Edward stepped down from the car onto the graveled drive, his shoes crunching into the tiny pebbles. Taking Bella's hand, he helped her out, trying to ignore her giggling amusement at his gallantry.

"Are you sure it's okay I'm here? I don't want to put Jake out if he was hoping to spend time with you."

"He'll be delighted to have a beautiful girl visit him. It'll make a change from the usual suspects." Edward kept hold of her hand as they walked up towards the steps leading into the clinic. The entrance screamed of dollars; from the white, stuccoed designs enhancing the doorway, to the solid-brass handles and knocker that were hanging from the heavy, oak door.

Jake was sitting out on the back lawn on a blue painted Adirondack chair, a checkered blanket covering his legs, with his head bent down over a well-thumbed paperback. He threw the book on the floor in disgust, then laid his head back on the wooden slats of the chair, his face frowning in anger.

"What's upset him?" Bella whispered to Edward as they approached his step-brother.

"I think he's just finished Catcher in the Rye. I had kind of the same reaction when I read it at school."

"Why would you have that reaction? It's a wonderful book." They were only a few feet away from Jacob, and he glanced up to see them, a big smile lighting up his face.

"Because Holden Cauldfield's a pussy," Jacob growled, joining in their conversation. "And I spent a week of my life reading him fucking moan. No wonder Mark Chapman shot John Lennon after reading that shit, I kinda want to inflict physical injury on somebody myself."

Edward bit back a smile, before turning to look at Bella. "Good job Harry Potter wasn't written back in the seventies. God knows what tragedies may have occurred as a result."

"If you disrespect Harry Potter one more time, Edward Cullen, I swear I'll turn the Avada Kedavra curse on you."

Jacob laughed loudly, pushing himself up from the chair and offering out his hand to her. "My brother seems to have lost all sense of courtesy. You'll just have to introduce yourself to me, because I think I'm going to like you."

"Jake, this is Bella, Bella, this is Jake." Edward's introductions were easy and laid back. "Bella is my girlfriend, and for some reason wanted to meet my douchebag step-brother."

"She must have heard I'm wealthier and much better looking than you."

"Or she wanted to spend three hours sitting in a car with me."

"Or perhaps you're both wrong," Bella interjected, "because not once have I agreed to be your girlfriend, Cullen, and I'm seriously not interested in your cash, Black. I came because I heard Connecticut was prettier than Manhattan."

"You see, I like her a lot, Edward. She doesn't take any of your shit—" Jacob was about to continue when Edward's cell phone started to ring. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looked at the caller ID and grimaced.

"Sorry, it's a work call; I've got to take this." He moved away from them, walking over towards the main building, speaking rapidly into the phone as he ran a hand through his thick, errant hair.

. . .

Bella watched Edward walk across the lawn, his long legs making quick work of the distance. She was so caught up with staring at his back that she'd forgotten Jacob was there until he started to speak.

"At least it isn't Elizabeth on the phone, because then he'd really be pulling his hair out."

"Elizabeth?" Bella questioned, a stab of jealousy hitting her stomach. "Who's that?" She sat down on the chair next to Jacob, picking at the flaking paint on the wooden slats, peeling it off in large chunks.

"You haven't met Elizabeth yet?" Jake smirked, his chocolate-brown eyes dancing as he looked back at Bella. "Oh boy, you're in for a treat. Elizabeth Black, my dear Bella, is the proud mother of Edward, and evil step-mother of Jake."

Bella's eyebrows rose, and she glanced back at Edward who was still talking into the mouthpiece, occasionally looking over at Bella and Jacob from as he spoke.

"Do you really see yourself as a Cinderella character? Because you don't look like the type of guy who enjoys sewing clothes for mice."

"Nah, but the bitch resents me because I hold all of the Black Enterprises cards. The only reason I haven't signed them all over to Edward is because I like to make her squirm." Jacob's voice was light, but Bella could sense the pain behind the words.

"How are you doing, anyway?" She took his hand and squeezed it gently, her compassion for this lonely, lost nineteen-year-old spilling over.

Jacob shrugged until the black shoulders of his hoodie almost reached his ears. A small corner of his lip turned up as a blush began to rise up his olive skinned face.

"Ahh, I'm okay, I think. I'm not sure whether I'd rather be here in rehab, or back in Manhattan with her. Either way I'm pretty much fucked." He closed his eyes, a blank expression crossing his face as he pulled the blanket back over his body. Bella felt her heart clench as she looked at this half-boy half-man. Everything about him radiated loneliness and sadness, and she couldn't help but reach out and stroke his arm.

"That feels good, thank you." He murmured, his eyes still squeezed shut, and she could see a small tear leak out of one corner, running down his cheek and into his mouth. For all his bravado, and brash talk, deep down inside, Bella felt he was like a scared little kid, and she could totally empathize with that.

. . .

The Biltmore Room of the Westchester Country Club was thronging with elegantly attired New Yorkers, the hum of their cultured voices adding a back beat to the swinging sounds the band was knocking out. Bella grasped hold of her champagne glass tightly, the wet condensation pooling in the dip between her thumb and forefinger.

"My daughter tells me you are Alice's favorite friend." Lillian Platt took another sip from her glass. It was hard to believe she was ninety; Esme's mother barely looked a day over seventy. Looking resplendent in her peach, satin dress with opaque lace sleeves, Lillian's hair was soft and teased, like a pale, fluffy cloud surrounding her face. Bella was trying hard not to stare at her as she tried to work out if any of her apparent youthfulness was surgically enhanced. Either way she looked amazing.

"I adore Alice," Bella agreed, "She never fails to make me smile."

"I hear there might be another member of the family that you adore too?" Lillian winked and glanced over at Edward, who was standing near the bar, surrounded by older men and pretty young women, all jostling to talk to him. Bella rolled her eyes; all night they had been trying to spend a little time together—knowing it was their last night—but people kept interrupting.

Edward turned around and caught her eye, his lips slightly parted and his head inclined as he listened to something that the man next to him was saying. Bella felt her heart beat faster as his gaze remained on her, and try as she might, she couldn't tear her own away.

Lillian gave a small cough, and put her hand out to touch Bella's bare arm, her slightly dry hands a contrast with Bella's youthful skin.

"Bella, I didn't come through two world wars, a financial crash and the death of the man I cherished without learning something about life. That boy over there is in love with you, it's written all over his face. If you don't go over there and claim him for a dance, you're going to regret it for the rest of the night."

Bella blushed, "I can't dance to this sort of music." She watched as couples glided across the room, looking so elegantly perfect in their movement. The ballroom was sadly lacking a mosh-pit.

"You don't have to be a good dancer, you need to let the man lead. That's what I miss about the old days; you knew where you stood back then."

"I'm not sure if Edward knows how to lead." She frowned, realizing that there was a lot about Edward that she didn't know. And they were wasting time.

"If I know Elizabeth Black, and unfortunately I do, Edward will have had dancing lessons foisted upon him in his youth. Now stop talking to this old bird, and go and grab your man."

Her words, coupled with her vehement tone, made Bella's lips twitch. Giving a slight curtsey, she walked over to the ever-increasing crowd surrounding Edward, and managed to slither her way in. He looked amazing in his black tuxedo, his jacket unbuttoned but his tie still expertly knotted. He was discussing real estate with the silver-haired man standing next to him, and it took him a moment to realize that Bella was standing right next to him.

"Hi." She smiled as she felt him put his hand on her bare back, the warmth of his palm making her skin flush.

"Gentlemen, ladies, this is my girlfriend, Bella Swan." He made some introductions, and she found herself shaking hands and making small talk. Eventually her eyes caught his again, and she inclined her head towards the dance floor.

"Well, I think Bella has been patient enough, I owe her a dance; if you'll excuse me."

Edward took her hand in his, folding his fingers over until it was entirely caged in his palm. She could feel herself being watched as they moved to the space in the middle of the ballroom. It was already filled with couples and small children, all trying to move gracefully to the slow beat.

"May I?" Edward took one hand in his, curving his other arm around her waist, as she naturally placed her arms around his shoulder. In that moment, as his green eyes met her brown, all thoughts of tomorrow, and airports, and long-distance relationships went out of her mind. Tonight was enough.

"Yes please."

He began to move them towards the middle of the floor, and just like Lillian had promised, he clearly knew how to dance. His hand guided her towards him, and then spun her around so that the long skirt of her silver evening dress flared out, the fabric swishing at her calves as she twirled.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear.

"About a hundred times."

"I could tell you a thousand and it would still be true. I was watching you talking to Lillian and I had to keep reminding myself that I'm the lucky guy that gets to leave with you tonight."

"It's a bit different to when we were last dancing together."

"You mean when we saw the Strokes? I guess we were just kids then."

"You didn't kiss like a kid," she teased, her hand curling around his neck until she could feel the slither of skin between his collar and his hairline. He pulled her tighter against him in response to her touch.

"As I recall I was about half a minute away from taking you on the snow-covered sidewalk."

"I'd like to say that would have been hot, but I think I would have frozen my butt off." She scraped her nails gently against his skin, feeling him start to twitch against her stomach in response.

"Apart from the snow, it would have been hot."

"You're right," she agreed. "Maybe we can try that again sometime."

The band segued into 'Under My Skin' and Edward sped their movements to match the new tempo. His hand dipped slightly, so that he was cupping her behind, and combined with his touch and his skill on the dance floor, it made a flash of desire shoot through her body.

"Shall we leave soon?" she suggested, wanting nothing more than to feel him buried inside her. She hoped to stay awake all night with him, until they were both too sore to walk.

"So desperate to get me alone, Miss Swan?" he joked.

"Its our last night together. I don't want to waste it."

A shot of pain flashed across his face at her words.

"You know this isn't the end, right?" His words were firm, as he brushed his lips against her forehead. "Because I'm not letting you go again. I don't think I could survive it a second time."

"I don't want you to, but I don't know how things are going to work when I'm in London and you're in New York. It's not like I can get a job out here, or you can move your company to England, is it?"

"You have dual citizenship, don't you? I mean, your dad's American, right?"

"Yeeesss…" She wasn't sure where this one was going.

"So there's no reason you can't move out here and live with me?"

Bella closed her eyes as they continued to move, trusting that he wouldn't lead her anywhere she couldn't follow. And as the darkness covered her vision, she could just imagine her life as a society girlfriend; the lunches, the charities, the endless visits to the beauty salon. Her stomach gave a nasty twist.

"I have a job to start in London in July. I've signed a contract."

Edward sighed, bending his head until his face was buried in her hair. They had almost come to a stop now, standing on the edge of the dance floor as they both clung to each other.

"Then I guess we take it day by day. I'll fly to you, you come visit me. At least we'll get to rack up some air miles."

She felt like a weight was lifting off her shoulders.

"That sounds like a plan. And on the plus side we get to have lots of reunion sex."

"And goodbye sex, don't forget that."

Bella laughed, "And in-between sex, evening sex, morning sex…"

"Could you can it with the sex talk while we're out in public?" Edward grimaced, adjusting himself in his dress pants before moving his gaze back to her, a small smirk covering his lips.

"Then let's get out of here, because I intend to talk dirty all night." She smiled at his shocked expression, letting him grab her hand and lead her away from the dance floor and over to say their goodbyes.

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**A/N - Many thanks to SunflowerFran for beta'ing, and to SparrowNotes24 and Cutestkidsmom for pre-reading.  
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**And thanks to all of you, for reading, reviewing and recommending, I appreciate it so much.  
**

**Fic Rec - Orange Kisses and Peppermint Hearts by SparrowNotes24. A beautiful one-shot with chocolate and a mystery wrapped up in a love story. I love it.**


	19. Chapter 18

**Fix You Chapter 18**

**February 2****nd**** 2004**

"We seem to have all of our most romantic moments at airports," Bella whispered into Edward's shirt. Her wet eyes mixed with her mascara until there was an inky stain on the white cotton. She wasn't worried; maybe this time the flight attendants would actually leave him alone on the plane back to New York.

"Not quite all," he drawled, bringing his lips to hers, brushing them softly as he wiped away the moistness around her eyes. "I seem to remember that last night was pretty romantic."

Bella laughed. "You seem to be getting mixed up between romance and sex. The two aren't mutually inclusive."

"For us they are."

He kissed her again, this time without restraint, and her knees started to shake at the onslaught. She couldn't even bring herself to care that they were making a scene in the middle of Heathrow Airport. Every few weeks they had to go through this parting, and it hadn't become any easier. As the time passed she was finding it hard to remember exactly why she was so opposed to moving to New York.

Then something would happen to bring her back to reality. Like last month when he formally introduced her to his mother, and she received a very pointed cold shoulder. At those moments, she realized she really wasn't cut out for life in Manhattan, and the only part of New York that she wanted to have anywhere near her was Edward.

His kisses were getting more demanding now, and she felt him drop his bag and move his hands to her waist, his fingers digging in to her soft skin as he squeezed her through her black t-shirt. As his lips trailed down from her mouth to her neck, she let her head drop back, allowing him access to the sensitive flesh of her throat.

"If we're not careful I'm going to end up doing a Justin on you," he murmured. The previous night they had watched the Super Bowl, and had both been in fits of giggles when Justin Timberlake had pulled Janet Jackson's top down to reveal her nipple.

"If you don't stop kissing me there, I'm going to let you," she gasped, feeling his mouth start to suck at her.

"You know, I've never watched football in the middle of the night before, but it had its advantages." She could feel him smile against her as he remembered the way they made their own half time entertainment. It didn't involve nipple piercings.

"You're going to be late," her voice was still breathy.

"I know." His hands moved down her hips, back to cup her behind as she felt him responding to their embrace. It took every ounce of willpower she had to put her hands up and push him away.

"It's going to take you forever to get through security." She gestured over at the long queue of travelers snaking around the airport. "Even American Airlines won't wait if you're late."

Edward smirked and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"What?"

"Nothing." His smirk grew bigger.

Bella huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "Are you trying to tell me that American Airlines _would_ hold the plane back for you?"

He shrugged, the grin still stretching across his face. "Let's just say that I'm one of their preferred customers. I'm not going to push my luck though."

"God, you are one of the most infuriating, arrogant, gorgeous men I've ever met."

"Hey!" he protested, turning his hands out in a gesture of supplication, "I hope I am _the_ most infuriating, arrogant, gorgeous man you've ever met."

"You've got two of them right," she murmured, hiding her face in his jacket to smother her smile.

"I'll call you from the lounge, okay?"

"And from the runway, then from JFK, your car, and your apartment…,"she teased.

"Well, since you've only just agreed to get yourself a cell phone, I have to make sure the thing is working."

It was a sore point between them. For the past year he had been desperate to buy her a cell phone—or mobile phone as she insisted on calling it. But she had resisted, telling him that she would get one only if, and when, she could afford it. Six months after starting her job at Music Train, she'd finally succumbed.

He leaned down and kissed her one last time; this time a soft, loving kiss that brought more tears to her eyes.

"I'll see you in a month, okay?" His voice was gentle, as he cupped her cheek with his right hand.

"I'm counting the hours."

"You don't have to count anything. Come with me now?" He asked her this every single time.

"I can't."

"There's no such thing as can't, baby. Just won't."

"Then move to London." She was smiling through the tears now, the familiarity of their interchange somehow grounding her.

"I want to—"

"But you can't." She finished his sentence for him, and kissed his cheek one last time. "I guess we'll work it out somehow."

"We'll have to, because this is killing me." He bent down to pick up his bag, noticing the black mascara stain on his shirt for the first time. His eyebrows rose as he looked at her pointedly.

"What?" She tried to look innocent, but the smile couldn't help bursting through. "I was sad, so sue me."

"I just didn't realize that Gucci made shirts that also functioned as handkerchiefs." His expression was soft as he looked at her.

"I'm leaving now." She started to back away from him, waving briefly, her eyes never straying from his.

"Without a goodbye kiss?"

"What the hell do you think we've been doing for the last half hour?" Her eyebrows knitted together in a mock-frown, as she moved a couple steps further back.

"That was just a warm up. Now I want the final goodbye kiss."

The corners of her lips twitched as she put her hands on her hips. "Come and get it then."

And he did.

. . .

The following evening, Bella rushed out of the Music Train offices on Wardour Street, and into the Soho air. Being so close to the West End of London, the road was always thronging with people, and she followed them up towards Oxford Street and dived into the tube station along with the rest of the weekday commuters. As she stepped on to the stairwell, she felt her phone vibrate, and pulled it out of the pocket of her jeans to read the text.

_**Have I told you that I miss you yet today?**_

She hurriedly tapped out a reply on the small number pad of her blue Nokia 3100.

_**I've been awake for five hours longer than you, Cullen; I win in the missing stakes.**_

Taking the Victoria Line, and then changing on to the District, she emerged from the station at Putney Bridge and into the cold night air. Her breath caused vapor clouds to appear in front of her as she hurried along the streets to her mum's apartment. It felt like they hadn't seen each other for ages; either Bella was away at a concert, or Renee was busy organizing an event, so they'd agreed to meet that evening to catch up.

As soon as she was on the street, her phone started vibrating madly; Edward had clearly been busy while she had been underground without any reception.

She smiled as she read his messages.

_**I didn't realize it was a pissing contest. But I'm up for it if you are. **_Followed by; _**Where did you go, I'm missing your cutting ripostes? **_His last message said; _**If you don't text me back, I'm calling 911.**_

Shaking her head, she took her glove off and moved her fingers across the number pad.

_**Okay Cullen. Firstly, realise is spelled with an s not a z. Secondly, my ripostes aren't cutting, they're biting. Finally, if you want to call the police, I'd advise you dial 999. Otherwise you're setting yourself up for disappointment.**_

That was going to cost her two texts, and the price of sending messages to America was already starting to eat into her rent money. She couldn't help but smile when she imagined him sitting at his overly-large, oak desk, like a big, bad CEO, and then receiving her reply. It satisfied the anti-establishment girl inside her.

Renee was waiting at the door when she walked up to the apartment, with a smile dancing on her lips, as she pulled Bella to her in to an embrace.

"Oh sweetie, it's so good to see you."

"You too, I can't believe how long it's been. We live in the same city for God's sake."

"You've been busy, with work and Edward…" Renee winked, pulling her inside by the hand and closing the door behind them. As soon as Bella stepped into the flat, she felt a calm, familiar feeling sweep over her. Everything about this place made her feel at home.

"I ordered beef in black bean sauce for you," Renee called out as she walked into the small kitchen, "do you want any prawn toasts?"

"Is the Pope a Catholic?" Bella shouted back, standing up and following her mum so that she could offer to help. Renee glared at her, moving her hands in a shooing motion until Bella got the hint and walked back to the living room.

"How has work been?" Renee called, her voice echoing slightly against the tiled floor of the kitchen.

"Great, I spent the day in the studio with a band that's recording their second album. They've gone all concept and spent most of the day playing me each track in order, so I can understand their narrative."

"I don't think I understood a word of that." Renee's face was a mask of confusion.

"They're trying to tell a story with each song. They rap about this guy losing a thousand pounds, and everything that happens, and then, in the final song, he finds it down the back of his TV."

"Sounds riveting, when do I get to hear it?"

Bella laughed out loud. Renee was a classicist, if by classics you meant Abba, Elton John and Cliff Richard.

"It's out in April; I'll buy you a copy."

"I can't wait," Renee replied, carrying two lap trays into the room, handing one to Bella along with some chopsticks.

"Aren't you hungry?" Bella stared pointedly at Renee's plate. Only a small helping of rice and an even smaller spoonful of chicken had been placed on the white china. Glancing up at Renee, she saw her hollowed cheeks. "Bloody hell, Mum, how much weight have you lost?"

She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it as soon as she'd walked in through the door, but Renee had always looked the same to her—petite, perfectly proportioned, though maybe slightly heavier on the hips than on the chest. Whenever Bella thought of her, she usually pictured Renee as being around 35 years old, still wearing the fashions of the mid-nineties, her unlined face smiling in delight at Bella's latest escapades.

But looking at her now, she could see that her face was lined, the skin drawn back across the bones, and the shadows under her eyes were darker and more pronounced than usual.

Renee looked down at her plate, drawing her bottom lip in between her teeth in a move that seemed familiar. Bella watched as a single tear dropped out of Renee's left eye, falling on to the plate, bouncing slightly as it met the china surface.

"Mum, what's wrong, you're really worrying me now?" Bella put her plate down on the side table and moved over, doing the same for Renee's lap tray. Kneeling on the floor next to her mum's legs, she took both of Renee's hands in her own, squeezing them as she urged her mum to look at her.

"Sweetheart, I've been at the hospital today. I don't want you to panic, and I know that it's going to come as a shock, but I've found a lump in my breast, and they've taken it for a biopsy."

The world shot out from under Bella's feet, leaving her reeling and dizzy, her head trying and failing to make sense of the words. She shook her head slightly, the side to side movement not helping her sudden feeling of nausea.

"I said don't panic, not yet." Renee leaned forward and enveloped her in a warm embrace. "They're pretty sure it's cancer, but there are all sorts of tests and things they need to do before they can give me a prognosis."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me this before?" A surge of anger rose up through her chest. She wasn't sure what she was mad about; whether it was Renee's lack of sharing, the fact that cancer had invaded her mother's body, or the whole world in general. She grabbed hold of the feeling and stayed with it, preferring it to the sensation of hopelessness she had felt only a moment before.

"I didn't want to worry you until I knew for certain there was something wrong. It would have been awful to have you all twitchy and nervous like this, and for the lump just to turn out to be a boil, or even worse, a figment of my imagination."

"Have they told you what they think they can do; what treatment you can have? I wish I'd gone with you to the hospital today." Spending the day listening to a guy rapping about losing his money in seemed to be a poor substitute for supporting her mum in her hour of need.

"I have another appointment on Thursday, I'm hoping they'll be able to tell me more then." Renee squeezed Bella one last time before releasing her. "Now go and eat your food before it gets cold."

. . .

Bella managed to make it all the way back to her own tiny apartment before she finally broke down, the tears pouring down her face as she curled her body into a little ball. She had never known anybody who had breast cancer before, but the sensible part of her brain was telling her that breast cancer was eminently treatable. There were all those women who wore pink ribbons and raised money for charity; they were a testament to the survivability rates.

When she eventually gained an ounce of control over her emotions, she called the one person whose voice she needed to hear.

"Hey, you just caught me; I've been in a meeting for hours." Edward's words soothed her soul.

"Hope it wasn't too draining." She attempted a laugh but it came out dry and thin.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really, no." The last word came out as a sob, and threatened to break the dam she had only just constructed.

"Bella, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" She could hear the faint squeak of the leather chair as he sat down at his desk. She guessed she was on speaker phone.

"I've just been to my mum's house. She was looking so gaunt and pale and eventually she told me…" Another sob, a mini-breakdown, she wondered how she was ever going to be able to say it.

"What is it, Bella, tell me what happened?" The concerned tone of Edward's voice hit her like a hammer, and she realized that for his sake, as well as her own, she was going to have to articulate it.

"Mum's got breast cancer." It came out as all one word, a rushed sentence that made her wonder if he'd even heard her.

He had.

"Oh Jesus, Bella, I'm so sorry. I'll get Heidi to book me on the next flight—"

"Don't be silly, you've only just flown back, you can't keep taking time off just for me."

"Bella, I love you, and if I want to fly over and support you then I will. Sometimes you just need to let other people help you."

"Thank you." Her voice was small and reedy, and she closed her eyes to stem the tears. "But we don't even know the proper diagnosis or prognosis yet, maybe you can save those air miles until I really need you?" She knew they would be okay, just her and Renee. It was their little team against the world, just like it had always been.

"Are you sure, because I can catch the red-eye tonight and be with you by morning?"

"Seriously, Edward, I love you for offering, but I just need to spend some time with my Mum."

As they ended the call, and Bella prepared herself for bed, her mind went back to her teenage years, when she and Renee were so close that they were occasionally mistaken for sisters. Her mum had always been there for her, always supported her, had been her biggest cheerleader. She'd picked her up when she had fallen and carried her when her legs were too tired for walking.

Now it was time to repay the debt.

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**A/N Sunflowerfran betas, Sparrownotes24 and Cutestkidsmom preread. they are my ports in a storm.  
**

**Thank you for reading and for all your reviews, I love to read them all, and I try to reply as much as I can. If you fancy a chat or to just look at some picture teasers, come join me on Facebook or twitter, links are in my profile. I'd love to see you there - it's where I spend most of my time! **


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N - apologies for putting a note at the top, but I just wanted to warn you that there is talk of cancer in this chapter. From your messages, I know that this disease has touched so many of you, and if you can't read, PM me and I'll be glad to give you a summary.**

* * *

**Fix You Chapter 19**

**23rd November 2004**

Sam Uley sat back in the leather captain's chair, folding his arms across his suited chest as he surveyed Edward with interest. The lines around his eyes deepened into furrows as he spoke. "You did well to make the decision so quickly, Edward. If you find a cancer growing, you have to cut it out before it has time to take hold."

Edward winced at the mention of the disease that seemed to be at the center of his and Bella's life. The blight that Sam was referring to wasn't of the medical kind, but the discovery that the head of the Real Estate Division had taken back handers from a number of construction companies. Even so, hearing the word was enough to send Edward's mind across the Atlantic.

Things hadn't been so easy on this side of the pond either. Firing half of the executive team in the Real Estate division wasn't Edward's favorite job, and searching for their replacements was proving even more difficult. He had called the meeting with Sam to discuss their short-term plans.

"We need to build the division back up quickly," Edward stood up and walked over to the large picture window that overlooked the financial district. "I'm going to appoint an interim head; while we let the executive search team do their job."

"It sounds like a good plan to me." Sam nodded his head as he looked at the organization chart that Edward had left on his desk. "We can't afford to take our eye off the ball when it's such a growth market."

They'd had this conversation a number of times. They were both amazed at how real estate prices were increasing exponentially, and the over-inflation of land values had made them wary. Black Enterprises had agreed on a strategy of investing in the short-term; while keeping their eye on the market, ready to withdraw at short notice should a downturn threaten.

Edward's biggest fear was that by the time the crash arrived, it would be too late. He was trying to diversify the company's interests as much as possible, but he wasn't foolish enough to withdraw from such a lucrative part of his business.

That was why finding the right person to lead the division was so important.

"Have you heard from Jacob at all?" Sam glanced at the photograph of the Black family that Edward kept on his desk, picking it up and rubbing his thumbs over the gilt frame.

"I managed to track him down to a resort near Miami. He's adamant that he won't go back into rehab, and there's little we can do to make him." Edward rubbed his head wearily. It had been a hell of a month, and it wasn't looking like things were going to get any better.

"He's becoming a big liability to this company," Sam remarked, putting the frame back on Edward's oak desk. "We're going to need to have a strategy for cutting him loose; we don't want to be at his mercy forever." Sam laced his fingers together, leaning forward until his elbows were on Edward's desk. "He's an addict, Edward, and both you and I know he's never going to change. I'd hate for us to be here in a few months' time having an emergency meeting because he's sold his share of the company for drugs."

"The lawyers drew up a first refusal document, so he can't sell it without giving me the option to buy." Edward sighed, his fingers rubbing harder than ever at his temples. "I'm pretty sure I can arrange the finance easily enough if he does want to sell."

"Maybe you need to make him an offer he can't refuse."

Edward laughed. "You're making me sound like the Godfather. This is Jacob we're talking about, not Sonny Corleone."

"We just need to be prepared for the worst. There's no room for sentimentality in business." Sam put his hands on Edward's desk, slowly pushing himself up to standing, the creak of his legs and the puffs of his breath reminding Edward that his CFO was nearly seventy years old. "Now, I'm going to go home, kiss my wife, and get ready for this damned Gala."

"You sound as excited about it as I am."

"Oh believe me, Edward, I'm probably the only person in New York who is less excited than you. At my age, I'd much prefer a night in my armchair, with a glass of port and the crossword, to schmoozing with the Manhattan glitterati."

"Well, old man, I'll see you at the Astoria at eight. I'll be the one in the monkey suit." Edward winked, his teasing tone a testament to the high regard in which he held Sam. He was Edward's right-hand man-the one person, apart from Heidi, that he truly trusted at Black Enterprises. Without him, he'd be lost.

"And I'll be the one with the most beautiful woman in the world on my arm, particularly since you couldn't persuade Bella to come with you tonight." Sam gave him a small smile, knowing that the past months had placed a huge strain on Edward's relationship with Bella. "I'm only sorry that I won't get to dance with her. Make sure you pass on mine and Emily's regards."

"I will." Edward walked across the office with Sam, opening up the large oak door to let him out, closing it softly behind him. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he walked back to his desk, he checked his watch before pressing speed dial one.

"Hey." Bella's soft voice coming down the earpiece made him smile as he sat down in his leather chair, pushing it back on its wheels until he could put his feet up on his desk.

"Hi, Sweetheart. How's Renée?"

"She's having a good day today, she managed to eat some soup, and we even went for a short walk in the garden." Bella sounded wistful, and his fist clenched in an effort not to throw down the phone and run to the nearest airport.

"That's good. I'm hoping to fly over in the next couple of weeks, once we've managed to sort out the new head of Real Estate." Not liking to burden her with his troubles, he quickly changed the subject, "Sam asked me to give you his regards. He's devastated you won't be dancing with him at the gala this evening."

"Oh my God, I forgot that was happening tonight, I'm so sorry." Her tone turned tearful, and Edward bit his lip in response. "I'm really upset that I can't be there with you."

"Hey, we agreed that you wouldn't feel guilty about this," he chided. "You'd only be bored anyway. I plan to run in, make my speech and then run home."

"Edward, you know you can't do that. The only reason the tables sell for so much is all the women want to get their hands on you for a dance."

"There's only one woman I want to dance with tonight, sweetheart, and since you won't be there, I'll just sit this one out."

"I love you."

He could almost hear her smile.

"I love you too. Now try to get some rest."

. . .

Edward's limo pulled up outside the Waldorf-Astoria, and the doorman walked forward to let him out. He found himself looking up at the magnificent Art-Deco exterior, astounding in its sheer size and grandiosity. Striding under the gilt-edged canopy and into the lobby, he saw Heidi waiting for him, wearing a silver ankle-length gown, her auburn hair swept up and back from her face to reveal her smiling features.

"You're late."

"I know," he held his hands up in surrender. "I only left the office an hour ago. Have I missed much?"

"Your mother was very disappointed that you weren't on her table for dinner, and I've had to give your apologies to about a thousand frustrated ladies who are desperate to mark your dance card."

"Do dance cards still exist?" He gave her a wry smile as they began walking towards the Grand Ballroom. Heidi fussed over his bow tie and jacket, smoothing them down until he was perfectly turned out.

"If they do, then along with the rest of your cards, I've marked them," she replied dryly. "I've cued your speech up on the screen of the lectern, and Jon Stewart has done a wonderful job of warming the crowd up. You just need to get in there and do your thing."

"You make it sound so easy." He grinned, batting her hands away as she tried to smooth down his hair. "And leave me alone, I'm trying to perfect the hobo look."

"You're doing a damn fine job," Heidi muttered. "And don't worry about the speech, nobody will be listening. They'll have either drunk themselves into a stupor at dinner, or they'll be planning who they're going to schmooze with next. Think of yourself as the gala equivalent of a B movie."

Edward leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Thank you for all your hard work, Heidi. It looks magnificent."

"You're welcome. Now I'm going to drink myself silly, make some foolish moves on the dance floor, and wake up in the morning with my head in my hands."

"Sounds like my ideal night." Checking himself one last time in the mirror at the back of the room, he waited for his name to be announced, then strode confidently across the floor, up to the stage at the far end of the ballroom, choosing to ad-lib, rather than use the lectern and words that Heidi had so carefully set up. He'd take the flak for that tomorrow.

Later that evening, he found himself standing at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand, surrounded by people that he only had a passing acquaintance with. The 3rd Annual William J Black Memorial Foundation Dinner was being held to raise money for the families of victims of 9.11, and it was only the fact it was such a good cause that kept Edward anywhere near the hotel that evening. With just under a thousand guests present, the foundation hoped to raise more than $3 million during the gala.

"Darling, there you are, I've been looking for you all over. Please don't tell me you came alone tonight." Edward looked up to see his mother approaching, resplendent in an emerald-green evening dress, her flaxen hair lying softly against her shoulders.

"Mother." He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips softly brushing her cheek. "And yes, I came alone; you know that Bella can't leave England right now."

"You really should find yourself a partner for times like these." She chided, ignoring Edward's reddening face. "It doesn't look right when you turn up without anybody on your arm."

"I don't plan to let that bother me," he replied, draining his whiskey and putting the empty glass on the bar.

"How long is this going to go on, darling? I can't stand to see you turn up at these occasions on your own. You really need the support of a woman; you're way too busy to be concerning yourself with the small things." Elizabeth brushed a piece of lint from his sleeve. "People are starting to notice."

"I couldn't give a damn what people are saying." Edward was angry now, his voice louder than he intended. "Renée is dying, what do you expect Bella to do, fly out and leave her on her own?"

"I expect her to stand by her man, just like the rest of us would."

"Because appearances always come first." He said bitterly.

"No, because when you are in love with somebody, you want to be with them. When was the last time you saw Bella?"

"I spoke with her this evening." His words were firm and flat, and invited no response. Elizabeth continued, ignoring his warning.

"Well, just think about it. If Bella can't accompany you to important occasions such as this, maybe having a friend who will stand in would be a better option." Like his own, her words were short, and she took another glass of champagne from a passing waiter before squeezing Edward's hands. "I don't mean to nag you, darling, but I worry about you. When you're not working you're either on a plane or visiting Bella. A man like you needs somebody to look after him."

"I think I'm doing pretty well on my own." Edward leaned towards the bar, signalling to the barman to bring him another Macallan's. "I can make my own bed, prepare my own breakfast, I've even been known to iron the occasional shirt."

Taking the newly filled tumbler from the barman, he placed the glass to his lips, jerking his head back as he swallowed the amber liquid. The potency of it stung his tongue, and he enjoyed the heat as it traveled down his throat. He looked at Elizabeth, noticing her worried gaze, understanding that in the past few years everything that she had known and held dear had been turned on its head.

Her words had hit a tender spot. Without Bella he felt incomplete, and to attend functions alone was difficult. It wasn't the fact that single women of a certain age seemed to make a bee-line for him—because he was easily able to swat them off—but when he looked around the room and saw couples dancing, gazing at each other as they swapped secret smiles and maybe the occasional sweet conversation, he felt her absence profoundly.

They had been together—as a normal couple—for such a short time before Renée had found the lump in her breast. Since then, she had gone through the ups and downs of treatment; hope, fear and finally despair. It was understandable that Bella didn't want to leave her for any amount of time, because the doctors had given her months, not years, to live. He wasn't going to be the selfish bastard who took her away from her dying mother.

He felt the twisting feeling of guilt when he wished that she would fly over and see him, or that they could spend some time alone in London, without having to be with Renée all the time. And an even darker part of him, one that he would never admit to even knowing existed, missed their physical contact, the romance, the love, and especially the sex; because if you discounted his hand, he hadn't had any fulfilling assignations for quite some time.

"Have you talked about what you are going to do afterwards?" Elizabeth asked.

"After Renée dies? I don't think that Bella can even conceive of a world without her mother, let alone how she's going to feel, or where she's going to want to live."

"Will she ever want to move to Manhattan? With all of your responsibilities, you could never leave."

"I don't know." Edward shook his head slowly, not wanting to follow the direction that this conversation was heading. "There are too many what-ifs and buts to even start to think about the future. I just need to concentrate on the now, and look after my girl."

"Edward, I know you think I don't like Bella, and no matter how many times I protest, you're never going to believe me. I do like her, darling, but I worry about what this relationship is going to do to you, where it's all going to end. When I look at you, and see that you are so in love with that girl, the thought of her breaking your heart just about shatters mine." Elizabeth stopped speaking, taking in a deep breath of air, nodding and smiling at people as they passed them on the way to the dance floor.

Edward glanced at his watch, noting that it was nearly ten-thirty. It was a respectable time to leave, but too late to call Bella to say goodnight. He'd have to phone her in the morning, while she was at work, and maybe they'd be able to exchange a few stolen words before he went out for his 5am run.

"Mother, I know you think you know best for me, but this is my life and my girlfriend we're talking about." His unspoken words were clear; back off and stop talking about it. He could see from the wounded look on Elizabeth's face that the message had gotten through.

"I'm sorry. I'll try not to worry so much." She leaned forward and brushed his cheek with her lips. "I'm going to go and find Sam Uley, I promised the old dog a dance."

"Have a good evening." Edward returned her embrace, moving over to the bar and leaning on the sticky wooden surface. He could feel the sharp, beginnings of a headache stab at his skull, and placed his head in his hands, massaging his temple with his fingers before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and calling Jack to ask him to bring the limousine around to pick him up.

And as he took his leave, saying goodbye to all the donors, business people, friends and acquaintances, he tried not to think about how much better this would have been with Bella by his side. Climbing into the back of the car, he let Jack close the door behind him before he poured himself a final glass of whiskey, hoping that the alcohol would act as a sedative and put him to sleep. Despite his shortness with his mother, and his dismissal of her fears, he was aware that her concerns were valid, and he didn't want to lie awake all night thinking about them.

Edward hoped it was just the whiskey making him feel maudlin, or maybe the solemnity of the cause they were raising money for, because when he closed his eyes and tried to imagine his future with Bella in it, he just drew a blank.

He didn't like it one little bit.

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**A/N 2 - Thank you to Fran, Mere and Sparrow for your help. I love you guys.**

**Huge gratitude to you all for reading, reviewing and recommending. A fic is only as good as it's readers - and you all rock.**

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	21. Chapter 20

**A/N - This chapter continues with details of Renee's breast cancer, and I know it probably is hard for some of you to read. I guess it might need a tissue warning.**

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**Fix You Chapter 20**

**9****th**** February 2005**

The light cream walls were illuminated by the afternoon sun, dappled by the branches of the tree outside, as it shone through the window into Renee's room. Bella sat on the easy chair next to her mum's bed, watching Renee's thin body as her chest rose and fell with rhythmic sleep, her dry lips emitting wheezing sounds as she exhaled every ten seconds or so.

The past year had been like a slow, downhill ride; sometimes the gradient had been so low Bella had thought they were actually making progress. The diagnosis of stage 4 breast cancer hadn't fazed her at first, but as treatment was complicated by metastasis, and the cancer spreading led to words like 'pain management', 'months, perhaps weeks' and finally 'dignity', any hope Bella had was completely deflated, like a birthday balloon left out in the cold.

They'd agreed to move Renee to the hospice last week, when it was clear weeks had turned into days and it was a matter of waiting. Neither Bella nor Renee had wanted those days to be spent in a sterile hospital environment, and St Luke's Hospice—an elegant Georgian mansion set in its own grounds—had offered a different kind of death. One where Bella could stay with Renee as much as she wanted to, where they could walk in the grounds and see the first shoots of the spring bulbs emerging from the grass. One where Renee could die without fanfare or the bleeping of hospital monitors.

"Is she asleep?" Bella glanced up to see Esme Cullen standing at the door, her gentle eyes crinkling into a smile as she took in Bella's dishevelled state.

"She's been down for a while, she may wake up soon." Bella stood up, realizing her legs had gone numb from the way she had been sitting on the chair. Her back ached too, and she stretched to try and wake up her body.

"How is she?" Esme walked into the room, carrying a Hermes bag in one hand, and a Dictaphone in the other. It was a strange combination.

"She's been out of it for most of today, but yesterday, she was lucid for the longest time, we had a great talk.

"Has she told you about our little project?" Esme waved her hand around to indicate she was talking about the Dictaphone.

"She said she was recording her memories for posterity," Bella confirmed, looking at Esme curiously, "but she didn't say she was in cahoots with you. What are you two up to?"

Esme laughed; a quiet, tinkling sound that seemed to echo off the walls. Renee didn't as much as stir in response to the noise.

"You make us sound like teenage hooligans, Bella. She wants to make sure she has words of wisdom for you at appropriate times, and I said I'd be the curator."

"So I don't listen to them all at once?" Bella grinned now, marvelling once again at how well her mother knew her. Because if Renee had given the tape to Bella, she probably would have already listened; patience wasn't one of her stronger points.

"There is that," Esme agreed. "She really wanted to write you letters, but she just isn't strong enough, and it wouldn't be the same if they weren't in her handwriting. So I suggested we record her voice, and she's left strict instructions on when you should be given each tape."

"On my marriage, my first child, that sort of thing?" Bella's expression was a strange mixture of confusion and hope.

"If I tell you, I'd have to kill you darling, so stop asking questions."

"It's okay; she's been sharing her words of wisdom with me too. Yesterday she spent hours telling me about her life, and how she has very few regrets." Bella frowned as she remembered their conversation, as they sat in the heated conservatory, overlooking the lawn.

"_You were the best thing that ever happened to me, my darling." Renee's voice was thin, and each word was punctuated by short, sharp breaths. "I was so lucky to have you in my life, and I'm so thankful to be leaving you in this world. You're my masterpiece."_

_Bella smiled, embarrassed at her mum's hyperbole. "You may be over exaggerating a bit but I'll take it." Looking up, she saw a nurse bring in a tray of tea and water, laying it down on the coffee table in front of them. _

_Renee continued, already caught up in her memories. "You know, when I married Charlie, I was so in love I could hardly think straight." She had gestured over to her cup of water, and Bella had held it to her mouth, allowing her to sip from the plastic straw. "I was so certain love could conquer all._"

_Renee closed her eyes, as if she was remembering her days back in New York. Bella, desperate for more information, prompted, "But it couldn't?"_

"_No, it couldn't. I should never have married him, sweetheart. I knew I didn't want to live in New York, I knew I'd hate being a banker's wife, and I was sure I'd be rejected by society. I really thought love would be enough."_

_Bella blinked, feeling the sting of tears just under her eyelids. Renee never talked about her relationship with Charles; in fact she rarely spoke of him at all. Bella wasn't sure whether she had been trying to spare her feelings, or whether it just hurt too much to articulate. She was beginning to suspect the latter was true._

_Renee got her breathing back under control. "I wish I'd been able to make it work for your sake, because I have never, for one single moment, regretted having you. I know you love your father, and your relationship with him has never been easy, and I have to take the blame for that."_

"_You don't!" Bella had protested, taking Renee's hand in her own, feeling the cold, papery skin crumple under her own youthful flesh. "It would have been so much worse if I'd lived there, and suffered everything you did."_

_She looked over at Renee, who was staring out of the window, watching the birds perching in the bare branches of the tree to the left of the conservatory. They swooped down, landing in twos before flying off again, to a higher branch, their tiny wings fluttering as they moved._

"_I broke your father's heart, I turned him into a bitter, cynical man, and it was all my fault. I should have loved him enough to let him go before things went too far." A tear ran down Renee's cheek, leaving a shiny trail along her translucent skin. Bella simply sat and held her hand, willing her own tears to dry up. _

_Bella wiped at her nose with a tissue, trying to get her own feelings under control. There was so much they needed to say to each other over the next few days. They had so little time, and each second passing was a reminder she would soon be alone, and Renee would be just a memory. She decided to hide her mother's words away for now, and think about them when she was ready. To think about them now would unplug the dam, and she wasn't ready for that._

_. . ._

Sleep was becoming an elusive commodity for Bella. Changing into her pajamas and closing her eyes signified the start of another long night of chasing oblivion, wishing for nothingness to cover her with its warm, reassuring blanket.

During the day she tried to work from home, using the laptop loaned to her by Music Train. But even when she was playing music, it was like she really couldn't hear it, let alone write about it. It was the aural equivalent of a fuzzy screen; she knew there was something there, but no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn't make it out. It frustrated and angered her.

The red light of her alarm clock showed it was already 3:07 a.m., and tonight was going to be a late one, which meant she would oversleep and not want to get out of bed in the morning. But she had to; she had no choice, because Renee could not wait.

Lying there, Bella could feel the anxiety start to seep out of her. She worried about the next day, the next week, the gaping maw of the future. She couldn't picture what life would be like without Renee in it, and although the thought left her dry-eyed, it also punched her in the stomach and squeezed her heart until it physically hurt. She curled up into a ball under the covers, as if she could somehow shield herself from her own thoughts, like an armadillo retreating into its shell against the attack of a predator.

She didn't know when she fell asleep, although she figured it had to be some time after 4 a.m. But at 8 a.m. she was woken by the dipping of the mattress, her body rolling slightly toward the middle of the bed in response. She was so groggy it took some moments for her to realize Edward was lying next to her, still wearing his suit and his tie, his head resting on the pillow as he gazed at her.

"Hi." His voice was a whisper as her eyes opened and stared at him.

"I'm so sorry I didn't meet you at the airport—"

"Hush, you needed to get some sleep," he interrupted, placing a gentle finger over her mouth. She kissed it, watching his face as he stared back at her, unable to mask his concern as he took in her thin frame and drawn face. "My father picked me up; we even managed to grab a spot of breakfast before he dropped me off."

"That's nice." She was relieved it was one meal less she would have to have with him, one less opportunity to be lectured because she wasn't eating properly.

"He sends his love. They want us to join them for dinner tomorrow night, if you're up for it."

"I don't know; I may have to be with Mum."

He pulled her toward him, so her body was lying over his, her leg hooked around his thigh, and her arm stretched out across his chest. She closed her eyes and nuzzled into the fabric of his suit, smelling the aroma of the wool, mixed with the sandalwood of his scent.

"We'll just play it by ear, okay?" His words were soothing, and she closed her eyes and submitted to the soft cadence of his words. "We'll do what we need to do, and I'll let them know one way or another. It doesn't matter, none of this does."

She could feel his breathing; his chest gently rising and falling, making her head move up and down. Without thinking, she undid the buttons of his jacket and laid her ear against the thin fabric of his shirt, until she could hear his heartbeat hammering against his chest. The heat of his body seeped through the cotton, warming her cheek, awakening feelings within her she had been suppressing for weeks.

Lifting her head up, she shuffled until her face was next to his, their eyes so close it was impossible to stare into them without everything going blurry. Her chest was pressed against him, and the need to feel more of him shot through her body like a cannonball.

Suddenly she couldn't get enough.

Her kiss wasn't gentle. It was hard, and fierce, and took him by surprise. She could feel his eyelids flutter against her face as he opened them and stared at her, trying to work out what she was doing. For the last few months, whenever they had been together, she had found herself unable to do more than hold him, and give him gentle kisses and soft embraces. Sex had been out of the question.

But now, she could feel her whole body tingling as she pushed her tongue against his lips, dancing along the skin until he parted them and touched it with his own, pushing himself inside of her mouth until they were both finding it hard to breathe. She didn't pull away; instead she put her hand around his head and pulled him closer until she could feel her lungs start to burn.

It was Edward who broke the kiss, unable to speak through his harsh breaths, a flush of embarrassment covering his cheekbones as he glanced down and saw his erection was digging in to her hip.

"I'm sorry, that was so inappropriate." He could barely meet her eyes as he spoke, instead gazing over her shoulder at the blue wallpaper.

Bella silently placed her hand under his chin, adjusting his face until his gaze met hers. She watched as he bit his lip, a look of confusion washing over his features. When she was sure he was looking at her, she leaned in again, brushing her lips gently against his at first, increasing the pressure until he could feel the desperation seeping through her every pore.

Her hands were tugging at his shirt, pulling it out from his pants until she could dip underneath it and start to touch the skin of his stomach. The sensation of her gentle hands against his abdomen did nothing to calm his reaction to her, making him almost painfully hard.

She was unbuttoning his shirt, pulling at his trousers, peeling her own pajamas off with shaking hands, her heart racing as she felt her flesh against his, her visceral response to his naked body surprising her with its intensity.

"Are you sure? I feel like I'm forcing myself on you," Edward whispered as Bella pulled him on top of her, her hands reaching for him, circling around him as she tried to line him up with her body.

"You've got that the wrong way round." Her eyes closed as she felt him enter her, gliding through her until he was all the way in. "I need this, Edward. I need you, please don't stop."

. . .

Bella climbed out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the rack to rub at her soaking hair, and wrapping a second around her body. Emerging from the bathroom, her face was plastered with a satisfied smile, which widened as soon as she spotted Edward, lying naked on her bed.

The shrill ring of her cell phone wiped the smile away, and without even answering it, she knew for certain what she was about to hear. In the long moments before she picked it up, she thought about all the things which were about to change, and the decisions she was going to have to make. Small ones like the color of the casket and the choice of songs at the funeral. Bigger ones like when she was going to be able to return to work, and what she would do with her mother's flat. And the biggest one of all—the one that kept her awake at night and made her heart beat with terror under the blackness of the sky—what the hell was she supposed to do about her future?

The telephone conversation was brief. Renee had passed away in her sleep. She had been comfortable and in no pain, and a nurse had been holding her hand as she went. Bella tried not to think about the fact at the moment her mother died, she was probably in the throes of passion with Edward, a life-affirming fuck which only seemed to emphasize the fact her mother was dead. Instead she concentrated on the voice of the Hospice Manager as she described the next steps; the laying out of the body, the time the family had to grieve, the arrangements they would help her make. She listened as the woman explained they could take as long as they wanted, Renee could remain in her room, and the family could stay with her body until they were ready to let go.

She wondered if she would ever be ready to let her mother go.

By the time she had put the telephone down, she felt uncertain, as if she couldn't even remember what they had spoken about. She knew her mum was dead—that much was clear—but she couldn't for the life of her think what time she had agreed to go back to the hospice, who she was supposed to meet, or if there was anything she was supposed to bring with her.

As she stood, swaying on unsteady legs, she watched as Edward stood up, walking toward her, having pulled on a pair of black shorts to cover his nudity. He came to a stop in front of her, pulling her to him until she was enveloped in his arms, his head buried in her hair as she felt his chest hitch.

He was crying, she could tell from the ragged sounds of his breath, no matter how hard he tried to muffle them. She gently rubbed her hand across his back, trying to comfort him, to reassure him it was going to be okay. Her own eyes were dry and wide open, as if it hurt to close them, and she was shocked at her own lack of emotion. It was like her brain didn't know how to behave and was shutting down, going on stand-by in order to block out any grief.

Standing there in the arms of the man she loved, she wondered if she was going to ever be able to break through it.

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**A/N - Hope you are still here. Feel free to shout at me, I can take it (I think). Seriously, I'm usually around on Facebook and Twitter, so feel free to come and chat.**

**Thanks to SunflowerFran for betaing, and to Sparrow and Cutestkidsmom for pre-reading. All your reviews and messages mean a lot to me - even if I am a total fail in the response department this week (sick child plus doing a LOT of writing), so thank you so much for writing them.**

**Finally - a one-shot I wrote for the Taste of the Forbidden 2 competition came first in the public vote - which was very exciting. If you like that sort of thing, I've posted it to my account - its called Fringe Benefits. Let me know what you think.**

**Choc xx**


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N - Hopefully my final warning. This chapter deals with severe depression. If this causes any triggers, PM me and I'll be happy to summarize.  
**

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**Fix You Chapter 21**

**3****rd**** July 2005**

Bella wore her despair like an iron blanket pressing down on her body; it comforted and caused pain in equal measure. It was somehow reassuring in its relentless misery; like the sun rising she could rely on it being her constant companion during daylight hours. And at night, while she lay curled up on her childhood bed, she let the hurt consume her as strangled cries fought their way out of her mouth, her hands curled up into fists as if she could somehow fight the anguish off.

It was a fight that she couldn't win.

For the first month after Renee's death, it seemed right and proper that she should mourn her mother, and she didn't give a second thought to the way she felt. Edward had returned to New York a week after the funeral, begging her to join him, but the memories of Renee and the need to settle her estate anchored Bella to London. During their separation, she felt increasingly alone, unable to answer his calls or return his emails without breaking down, finding excuses to prevent him visiting her. She wanted to conquer her depression on her own without him ever finding out just how low she felt.

But as time went on, and the flowering bulbs of spring gave way to early summer heat, her misery continued unabated. She only left the flat for the most pressing of reasons, and even then she found herself rushing back home as soon as she could.

By June, things had reached an all-time low. She turned down any social invitations, and made every excuse not to meet with the Cullens or speak with Edward. Being with them reminded her of everything she had lost, and the jealousy she felt whenever she saw their tight, family unit consumed her. She hated herself for it.

At work she was given a warning for lateness and absenteeism. With every word that her editor said, she had found herself nodding and agreeing with him; she was lackadaisical, uncaring and unprofessional, and his poor opinion of her only confirmed that she was right in having an equally low opinion of herself.

Now it was 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning, and she was still half-asleep, her hair dull and greasy, her ten-day old pajamas in desperate need of a wash. The knocking on her door was an accompanying sound to her misery, like the back-beat of a drum, and she didn't even have enough energy to drag herself out of bed to answer it.

And then the shouting started.

"I know you're in there, Bella, open up!" The voice carried across the hallway and into Bella's room and she closed her eyes in the hope that whoever it was would go away. Just as she snuggled back into her soft feather pillow, she heard a key turn in the lock, then the bang of the door as it hit the wall.

Clearly she had company.

She could hear the footsteps as her visitor walked across the hall, each click becoming louder as they approached her bedroom. A sense of resignation washed over her as she realized that she would have to face whoever it was, and try to get them out of her apartment as quickly as possible. Didn't they know she wanted to be left alone?

"Jesus, it stinks in here." Alice wrinkled her nose up as she walked into the bedroom, immediately glancing over at Bella and seeing her curled up under three-week old sheets.

"Go away Alice." Even to her own ears, Bella's voice sounded monotonous and dull.

"I'm not going anywhere. I've finished my last exam; I've got all the time in the world to devote to making you get in the shower." Alice wandered over to the window and yanked open the curtains, a soft shower of dust falling from the fabric to the floor below.

Bella blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust her eyes to the morning light. A scowl covered Alice's face and her usually calm demeanor was somehow agitated and nervy, increasing Bella's anxiety.

"I just need to go back to sleep. I'm so tired." Bella closed her eyes.

"Bella, we're so worried about you. You never call Edward; you won't come and see Carlisle and Esme. You haven't texted me once to see how my exams are going, it's completely unlike you."

Bella bit her lip, refraining from responding, because she wanted to tell Alice that she couldn't care less how the Cullens were feeling, or how they never heard from her. She was like a cuckoo in the nest, poisoning their happy unit with her bitterness and jealousy, and they were better off without her.

She was so angry that she didn't have a mother to hold or love her anymore.

"I'm fine, Alice. A bit tired, and a bit emotional, but nothing I can't handle." Bella pulled the sheets further up her body, until they were covering her face. Alice was right; the stench in her bedroom _was_ foul.

"You're not fine." Alice's eyes were getting watery, and her voice reflected her mood. "You're anything but fine. Please let me help you."

It was like watching a program on the television. Bella could tell that she was upset, but felt powerless to do anything to influence her mood. It was like somebody had turned off the empathy switch in her brain.

"I just need to close my eyes. I'll be better tomorrow."

Alice started to pace the room, nervously pulling on her hair and occasionally stopping to pick up a piece of clothing that Bella had left on the floor. She tried to stuff them in the clothes hamper, but it was already overflowing, and they fell onto the surrounding carpet.

"Have you at least gone to see a therapist?" Walking over to the bed, Alice found a space amongst the debris to sit down, her hand reaching out to brush the hair from Bella's face.

"There's no point. I know what's wrong with me; I just can't bring myself to care."

"Why won't you call Edward? He's going out of his mind." Alice's face started to crumple; she sucked her lips inside her mouth, biting down on them with her teeth.

"I don't know what to say," Bella whispered. She fell asleep with his name on her lips, and awoke in the middle of the night with the thought of him squeezing her heart like a vice.

"He loves you, Bella. He's going out of his mind."

"He's better off without me; I'll just bring him down too." She let her head fall back to the pillow and closed her eyes.

"Let him come over and see you, he's desperate."

"I can't." The tears that came so easily nowadays were bubbling over from Bella's eyes, and she kept her lids tightly shut as if she could somehow cage them in.

In five months of sleepless nights, she had spent so much time thinking about her relationship with him, and still couldn't see a way forward. They had spent some time together—always when he flew over to see her for a stolen weekend—but it wasn't enough to solve any of her dilemmas. She was never going to fit into his life in New York, no matter how much she tried to change and adapt. She kept remembering the words that Renee had said when she was talking about Charles; that she should never have married him, and love simply wasn't enough. That she should have let him go before she'd hurt him.

They were at an impasse; there was nowhere for them to go but downhill. She wouldn't live in New York, and he was unable to live in London. In her mind, their relationship was like a horse with a broken leg; the kindest thing to do would be to put it out of its misery. So by April Bella was evading his calls, making excuses for him not to visit. She was the queen of avoidance.

. . .

Later that morning, Alice somehow persuaded her to take a bath, and Bella lay in the warm soapy water, listening as Alice cleaned, putting in load after load of washing. She lay there for over an hour, and it wasn't until the bubbles had disappeared and the water had turned cold that it occurred to her to get out. Her skin was wrinkled and pale, and she was aware that it clung to her bones rather too snugly. She tried to cover herself up quickly without looking in the mirror.

"He won't give up, you know." Alice remarked, as Bella pulled on a clean pair of pajamas and climbed back into her newly made bed. "He'll keep trying until you agree to see him."

Bella was silent, turning over on to her side with her back to Alice. A riptide of despair washed over her, surprising Bella with its vehemence, making her body shake with the need to scream, to throw something, to inflict physical violence.

Her breath was coming in short pants, and her heart started to race in an effort to get enough oxygen around her body. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down, feeling Alice's soft hand against her cheek, her tears pooling at the point where fingers met flesh.

"I need him to give up." She was broken, everything was messed up. "I can't go on like this."

"Oh Bella." Alice leaned in and hugged her, and Bella felt herself melt, allowing a small measure of comfort to wash over her.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because when she awoke it was dark, and the only illumination in her room was the red light of her alarm clock.

For a moment—one short, glorious moment—she had felt normal. The cloud had held itself off until she was fully awake, and then it had descended faster than ever, the sudden change in outlook making her gasp.

Her head hurt; and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make her brain stop racing. She could hear a song playing over and over again in a loop.

"_If you love somebody; set them free" _

She could almost hear the sax playing in the background, and the soft chanting of the backing singers as Sting's words continued to reverberate in her head. It was like he'd written the song especially for her, and she felt giddy with the thought that she could solve this problem, that she could make things better for Edward. She needed to release him from any sense of obligation he had towards her, because in her messed up mind, she couldn't see that she was worthy of his love.

Like a weight had lifted off her mind, she realized the answer was there all along. All she had to do was set him free.

. . .

Despite her determination, it was still almost impossible to drag herself out of bed the next morning. Somehow she managed to get to work on time, bracing herself against the morning rush hour on the tube, squeezing into the train between suited men and uniformed teenagers.

Kate was the first to notice her walk into the office, a broad grin spreading across her face as she saw that Bella was wearing cosmetics, and had actually taken the time to brush her hair.

Before she had even reached her desk, Bella found herself wrapped in Kate's arms.

"Oh God, Bella, it's good to see you with some makeup on. You don't know how happy it makes me."

"I guess I do look pretty hideous au naturel." Bella's tone was dry, but she was finding it hard to keep it all together.

"I didn't mean that, you goof. I just think it's a good sign."

"I need to see Marcus, is he here?"

"Yeah, he's in his office." Kate frowned, looking closely at Bella as if she was a mystery to be solved. "Why do you want to see him?"

"I'll tell you in a minute." Bella braced herself for a moment before walking over to the Editor's office in the corner of the room. Marcus was sitting at his desk, his laptop open, and he was leaning towards it; whatever he was reading caused deep furrows to form across his brow. Bella looked in through the glass door, trying to press down the panic that was churning in her stomach.

Marcus glanced up, and beckoned her in. For a moment she was reminded of the newsroom back at University, and the times she would walk into Tyler's office and sit on the desk, bantering and flirting with him until she goaded him into kissing her.

That seemed like a different lifetime, a different life. What happened to that girl?

Closing the door behind her, she rooted in her bag for the envelope, finally discovering it beneath a half-empty packet of tampons and an old brochure for a festival. Swallowing hard, she passed it over to Marcus, watching as he opened it and read the short letter.

"I'm not willing to accept this." He stared straight at her, his eyebrows raised.

"I need you to." The panic was starting to rise up; she could feel her heart beating hard. "Please Marcus."

"Bella, I don't know what's brought this on, whether it's a reaction to our conversation last week, or something more long-standing, but you're too good of a writer to let go. I can't accept your resignation."

"I'm leaving the country for a while; I need to get my head together."

"Are you going to New York?" Marcus sounded surprised.

"No!" Her response was almost instantaneous. "I just want to travel for a bit. Get my thoughts straight, work things through. The last place I want to go to is Manhattan."

"In that case, I'm going to offer you an unpaid leave of absence. Let's agree you take a six month career break, and then come back here next year." He sounded so reasonable, so kind. She didn't know what to say.

"I…..um…." Six months sounded like such a short time. And yet it sounded like forever.

"Just give it a try. And if in six months you don't think you can come back, I'll accept your resignation."

"Okay." Her voice was small, but not as small as she felt. "Thank you."

"Keep in touch; let me know how you're getting on. You've got a lot of friends here."

. . .

Two weeks later, she was taping up the final box when the buzzer signalled the arrival of the removal company. Bella was pleasantly surprised to see that they were fifteen minutes early, and she pulled the door open wide to let them in.

Her heart dropped as soon as she saw Edward leaning on the doorjamb, his hand raking through his hair, his suit so dishevelled that it looked like he'd spent the night in it.

She supposed he had.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as he barged through the door, taking in the piles of boxes stacked in the hall.

"What the hell is going on?" His tone was soft but his words were harsh, and she winced upon hearing them. "When were you going to tell me you were moving?"

"I'm just letting the house out for six months." She pulled her lip between her teeth, digging her canines into the flesh. The resulting pain felt somehow satisfying.

"Where are you moving, back to your old place?" he asked, referring to the old apartment she had lived in before Renee died.

Bella slowly shook her head.

Coming to a stop in front of her, Edward reached out to touch her face, and she found herself stepping backwards.

"Bella, tell me what's happening." His voice was quiet, and she tried to make herself breathe. She wouldn't throw herself into his arms; she wouldn't melt into his embrace. She was doing this for him.

"I'm leaving London, I'm planning to travel."

"Why didn't you tell me? Were you just going to disappear?"

"I've written you a letter." She felt nauseous, and tried to will her body to calm down. She couldn't show him that she was falling apart.

"Don't do this."

"I have to."

"Baby, please." His voice cracked.

Oh God, she was going to cry, or throw up; maybe both. She ran to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and turning the lock behind her. For the longest time she knelt on the cold tiled floor, her head bent over the bowl of the toilet, her body heaving. Her hands were shaking as she braced herself against the basin.

When she emerged half an hour later, he was standing outside, his cell phone in his hand, shouting orders down the mouthpiece. He must have let the removal company in—there were men everywhere; dressed in overalls and carrying boxes and furniture out to the van they had parked in the middle of the street.

Bella watched as they manoeuvred her bed and mattress out of the front door. More than anything she wanted to climb back inside and bury herself under her duvet, and put herself in storage alongside her belongings.

Edward was following her every move; as he stood in the middle of the room unsmiling, his green eyes staring directly at her. It was unnerving.

"I catch a flight from Heathrow tomorrow," she blurted out, just to shatter his silence.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm flying into Sydney."

"I'll come and visit you."

"No!" Her reply was instantaneous and firm. "I need to do this alone."

"What the hell do you expect me to do, just sit at home and wait for you to come back when you're ready?"

"Oh God, no Edward, I don't want you to wait for me. You shouldn't wait for me." Christ she knew this would be hard, but it was killing her to watch his face crumple. "I need you to let me go."

"For good?"

"Edward..."

"I can't agree to that." Any sense of anger had left his voice. Bella realized that, despite being in the pit of despair, she was the one who was going to have to be strong.

"I'm not worth it."

"You're more than worth it, this will never be over."

Walking over to him, she wrapped her thin arms around his waist, pressing the side of her face into his chest, not sure which of them was shaking more. Tilting her chin to look at his face, she watched the tears streaking his cheeks, mirroring her own, and she stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips to his mouth.

Falling back on her heels, she walked over and picked up her bag, pulling the strap over her shoulder as she made her way to the front door.

She couldn't look at him again, knowing that to see his expression would change her mind. Instead, she closed her eyes, keeping her hand on the door handle as she swung it open, waiting for the creaking sound to stop to make sure he could hear her.

"Goodbye, Edward."

* * *

**A/N - **Thanks for all your reviews and support, they mean the world to me. My little ones are both better and back at school, which leaves me with more time to write. If you are in need of a pick-me-up, SparrowNotes24 and I are collaborating on a fun, fluffy fic called _**'The Art of Getting Fluffed.'**_ It is posted under the author CHOCOLATE SPARROW, and you can find a link on my profile page.

**Summary:** Like every professional, Edward Cullen needs the right tools for the job. But what happens when they just don't work anymore? Cue Bella Swan, an expert at being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The adventures of Pornward and Fluffella. Short funny chapters rated M for a reason.

Thanks to Fran, Sparrow and Cute for all their help, I couldn't do this without them.


	23. Chapter 22

**Fix You Chapter 22**

**4****th**** March 2006**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Edward looked Jacob straight in the eye, searching for any sign he was wavering. Jacob lifted a glass to his mouth with shaking hands, his lips twitching as he swallowed. Over the past year his nervous habits had increased, now Edward wasn't sure what movements were intended, and what weren't.

"I don't want to be part of it anymore; I can't even walk into the building. Heck, I can't even be in Manhattan any more without having a panic attack." Jacob's Bataphobia had started suddenly, after he had left rehab and attempted to stay clean. The first time he had tried to walk into the Black Enterprises lobby, he'd collapsed on the ground and been taken away by ambulance.

It was almost impossible to live in Manhattan when you had a gripping fear of tall buildings.

"What are you going to do with all that money?" Edward asked.

"I'm going to find somewhere with low buildings and constant sun." Jacob gave the merest hint of a smile.

"That narrows it down," Edward had to remind himself his step-brother was nearly 23. Sometimes it seemed there was much more than four years between them. They'd agreed to meet at the Stone Creek Inn on East Quoge, not far from the house Jacob had inherited from his father in the Hamptons. He stayed there intermittently, preferring it to the terrifying trips to Manhattan, although now he had also put this residence up for sale, along with his part of the company.

Most of the time Jacob flitted from place to place, staying with friends and acquaintances long enough to wear out his welcome. His drug-taking seemed to be intermittent, although he had already had one stint in rehab this year.

"I want to travel for a while first, see what's out there. I'm not even sure I want to live in America any more."

"What does your girlfriend think of that?" Edward couldn't remember her name; they rotated on a monthly basis and were pretty interchangeable: blonde, statuesque and happy to accept the gifts Jacob lavished on them.

"Vanessa and I split up. She started talking about engagement rings and buying a house together." Jacob shuddered visibly. "I suddenly saw my whole life flash before my eyes."

"It wouldn't necessarily be a bad life."

"I don't want to end up like my father, Edward. He spent his whole life trying to please people." Jacob swallowed a large gulp of wine, leaving a smear of red liquid on the rim of the glass.

Edward remained silent. As a result of Jacob's decision, the one who was going to end up like William Black was Edward himself.

The avocado salad was well dressed, and they both cleared their plates quickly. Jacob grabbed a roll and smeared it with butter, before stuffing it in his mouth.

"Talking of ex-girlfriends, have you heard from Bella?"

This time it was Edward who took a huge mouthful of wine, before placing his glass back down on the crisp white tablecloth. "Alice tells me she's still travelling."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either.

"Does she ever contact you?"

"Not really." He wasn't going to admit to his step-brother she had sent him a text telling him to move on.

"Maybe I'll bump into her while I'm travelling too." Jacob looked up as the waitress served their main courses, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his steak. "That would be neat."

Edward coughed, nearly spitting his wine out in the process. He wasn't sure if the tears it brought to his eyes were from the choking or irritation.

"It's a big world Jacob, I'm pretty sure it would be like finding a needle in a haystack." He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"It would be fun though. I miss her; she was one of the few people I looked forward to seeing when I was stuck in rehab."

"She visited you twice, three times max. I was there every week." The corner of Edward's mouth turned up a little.

"She was pretty memorable. And she used to send me emails."

The lobster risotto turned to ashes in Edward's mouth. He remembered the emails, and the texts, and the letters and the presents.

Not to mention the physical reunions.

"I'm pretty sure she's not hanging out in a drug den in Marrakesh."

"Did I hit a sore point?" Jacob dropped his knife onto the floor with a clatter as his arm twitched wildly. He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath in, as a waitress brought him over a clean one. Noting his gesture, she poured the last of the red wine into his now empty glass.

Edward shrugged and finished his risotto, carefully placing the cutlery on his empty plate. "It's not a big deal. Anyway, we're here to talk about your plans. I need to know where you want the money transferred. As soon as your lawyer gives us the signed papers on Monday, we'll need to sort out the wire."

"Just put it in my bank account."

"I don't think that's a good idea. Do you know how much money you're getting?"

"I'm not an idiot, Edward. I do have a financial advisor."

This time, it was Edward's turn to give a wry smile. Maybe Jacob would be okay after all.

. . .

Scrawling his signature across the final document, Edward passed it to his lawyer to be notarized. He was sitting in the main boardroom of Black Enterprises, along with Sam Uley and Jacob's lawyer and advisors. The notable absentee was Jacob himself. Still unable to drive into Manhattan without suffering from a panic attack, he had signed the papers with his lawyers that morning in the Hamptons, before they started the long trek back to Black headquarters.

"The wire transfer is going through as we speak." Sam put the red phone down on the desk at the corner of the room and walked back to the main table. "I guess this calls for a drink."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to get back to the office." Jacob's lawyer was already packing up his papers, placing them in his black leather briefcase. "I've got quite a lot of work to do to tidy this up."

"Richard, can I offer you a glass?" Sam turned to Jacob's financial advisor, who also declined.

"It looks like it's just you and me," Sam winked at Edward and walked over to the champagne he had placed there before the meeting. Opening the bottle with a pop, he poured two glasses as Edward showed Jacob's representatives out.

"I guess this is where I say congratulations, my boy." Sam gave Edward a glass as he walked back into the room.

"And this is where I say thank you, Sam. I couldn't have done any of this without you." They clinked their glasses together before taking a sip.

"It's all yours now, Edward. How do you feel?"

Edward laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Relieved?"

"Not powerful, strong, like you've got the world at your feet?"

"Maybe after a second glass, but for now I'm glad it's all over." He had approached with an offer to buy him out of the business nearly six months ago. It had become clear not only was Jacob a liability, but his public falls from grace were causing adverse publicity for the company. Black Enterprises didn't have shareholders to answer to, but they did rely on the goodwill of their customers in many of their subsidiaries. This was fast running out.

The last six months had been taken up with negotiations, both with Jacob and his advisors, as well as Edward's own financial backers. Even if he was the titular owner of Black Enterprises, he still had his silent investors to answer to.

The two of them moved over to the easy chairs on the other side of the conference room. Sitting back in the leather studded seat, Edward looked out of the large windows stretching the length of the room. From here it really did look like the world was at his feet.

"Now that's over, we need to discuss my retirement."

Edward's heart dropped. For the past five years, Sam had not only been his greatest ally but his best advisor. He had taken the reins as a novice, but every step of the way Sam's experience and words of wisdom had bolstered him and made him strong.

"You're too young to give this up."

"If I keep working any longer, Emily will kill me. She wants us to go visit our grandchildren, and take that cruise we always talk about. I promised her I'd retire as soon as I'd seen the takeover through."

They both knew this was a long time coming, but it didn't make it any easier to take. Raking his hand through his hair, Edward drew his lips tightly together, turning down the corners to indicate his displeasure.

"I'm so thankful for everything you've done, this place won't be the same without you."

"You've gone through much worse things than losing an aging CFO, Edward. You're a survivor; nothing is going to stop you."

"Do you think Seth is ready to become CFO?" Edward asked, referring to Sam's second in command.

"He's chomping at the bit. He has grand plans to shake things up a bit; I think he considers me set in my ways."

"As long as he remembers who's boss."

"As long as _you _remember, I think you'll do okay." Sam raised his glass to Edward and took another sip of Veuve Cliquot, his lips pulling back into a grin as he toasted the new owner of Black Enterprises.

. . .

Later that evening, Edward was sitting in his office going through a thick dossier, containing photographs, reports and copies of legal documents. Seeing her in black and white—in candid photographs, taken while she walked the streets of Sydney—was enough to make him sigh. She looked beautiful as ever, her hair whipping around her face, her skin smooth and even, her lips slightly open as she spoke to somebody cropped out of the photograph.

Why the hell was he torturing himself like this?

When she first left, he'd managed to go through a whole month without going insane. He'd continued his routine of jog, work, sleep like a robot, immersing himself in Black Enterprises in a way to try and block out the pain. Occasionally he'd phoned Alice to try and get some information, but she had been cagey and withdrawn, and eventually he'd given up.

On Labor Day, he had found himself unoccupied, not wanting to attend his mother's annual weekend party in the Hamptons. After jogging for nearly two hours, managing to get around most of central park, he went back to the office and showered, sitting down at his computer to try and do some work. But he couldn't concentrate—thoughts of Bella dominated his mind. Where was she, what was she doing, was she okay? The last time he'd seen her, it seemed like she was holding on to her sanity by a thin thread. Had she managed to strengthen her hold, or had she snapped all together?

It wasn't a federal holiday in Australia, so he'd contacted an investigator straight away. Even with the limited knowledge Edward had, the detective had tracked her down to a Sydney suburb using the internet, and had agreed—for the right sum—to go out that day to take a look. It was already afternoon in New York by that point, and Edward had stayed in his office until 3:00AM waiting for the guy to call him back.

Jenks had managed to get some sketchy details; she was staying in a small apartment in Homebush West, and was undertaking some casual work in a nearby bar. She appeared to be well, with no documented visits to her doctor, although Jenks had been through her trash and found an appointment card for a counselling service.

After their initial discussion, Edward had placed Jenks on a retainer, asking for bi-monthly reports, and as well as for any significant changes to be notified straight away. In a perverse way he actually looked forward to the emails; he printed every single one of them out, along with their attachments and placed them in the buff file. It comforted him to be able to take them home.

Looking at the current report, Edward was surprised to see that Jenks had noticed some changes.

_The subject has recently been undertaking freelance work both with local Australian publications and with Music Train; an English-based publication. Her income has risen significantly as a result, and from my observations I can confirm she no longer works at Paddy's Bar, where she had previously undertaken casual employment._

_Last week I observed the subject attend a concert at the Allianz Stadium, which was headlined by the group 'Fatal Limits'. From both her movements, and the fact she was wearing a backstage pass, I can confidently state she was working on this occasion. From my investigations she has filed a report with the Sydney Morning Herald, as well as a longer review with Music Train. _

_The following evening, I followed the subject to the Boilerhouse Harbourside Restaurant and Bar in Manly. At this location she was joined by two members of 'Fatal Limits'—Jasper Whitlock and Riley Biers—and they dined for approximately three hours. The subject returned to the band's hotel in central Sydney, leaving at 7:30AM the following morning._

_I attach photographs of both the concert, and the following evening. Time stamps show the exact timings of the subject's movements._

Placing the file on his desk, Edward pulled open his bottom drawer and took out the half-empty bottle of whiskey. Pouring it into a glass, he swallowed quickly, filling the glass a second time.

Flicking through the photos, he saw three of Bella, dressed in jeans and a tight black t-shirt, walking into the back entrance of the Allianz arena. More photographs showed her leaving, time stamped at 10:33PM. He saw some grainy pictures of her sitting at a table in a restaurant, opposite Jasper Whitlock and another man, showing them all laughing raucously. The last picture, time stamped 7:33AM on Thursday 2nd March showed her leaving the Westin Hotel, carrying a dark fabric bag, her hair fanned out behind her as she cupped her hands over her eyes as if to shield them from the sun.

She looked the same. Beautiful as ever, alive and well, and the sight of her was like a kick to the gut. He wanted to be able to drag her out of the photograph and into the room, not to hold her—although he desperately wanted to—but to ask her why she had spent the night with either Jasper, or Riley, or God forbid, both of them. Did she have her own room, or had she slept with them? Did she have sex with them? All these things were like a maelstrom in Edward's head, and it was driving him crazy.

After the first report he had tried to visit her, had gone as far as booked his plane and made arrangements for Sam to temporarily take the helm, but she'd got wind of it and sent him a short text message which chilled him to the bone.

_**Edward, please don't. This is over, you need to move on.**_

He hadn't heard a word from her since, and it was killing him. No Christmas card, no birthday wishes, just complete silence.

God he missed her.

He missed her laugh, the way she chewed her hair and her beaming smile whenever she walked through the airport arrivals gate to find him waiting. He missed the skin of her neck and the way her breath felt on his face as he made love to her.

He knew he was torturing himself, keeping this contact, even if it was only one-sided. The only person suffering was him, and it cut him to the quick. Like a Band-Aid, he needed to rip this off quickly, to stop having her followed, and to stop waiting for her to return.

She wasn't coming back.

She'd asked him to move on, and he'd ignored her. And now here he was, owner of a multinational company, sitting in his penthouse office, and he was alone.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he noticed it was still only 9:00PM. Placing the file back in his bag, he pushed his chair away from the desk and made his way out of the office, taking the executive elevator down to the ground floor. Jack was waiting for him in the car, and as Edward climbed in to the back, rather than asking Jack to take him straight home, he instead directed him to a bar in midtown. Edward noticed Jack's eyebrows rise up in surprise as he heard his instructions.

"Of course, Sir, do you want me to wait, or pick you up later?"

Looking out of the window as they made their way through the financial district, Edward leaned his head back on the leather headrest. He wasn't ready to go home alone to his apartment and stare at all the places he had made love to Bella. He wanted to spend some time with people, kick back and have some fun. Tonight was a night to celebrate.

"I'll call you when I'm ready."

* * *

**A/N - Thanks to SunflowerFran for beta-ing, and to SparrowNotes24 and Cutestkidsmom for pre-reading. **

**And thanks for reading and reviewing - I was so choked up by some of the reviews for the last chapter, and knowing it was a hard one to read made me feel so grateful for your support. Thank you. **

**Sparrownotes and I posted chapter 3 of The Art of Getting Fluffed last night (link is via my profile - click on the 'chocolatesparrow' link), and it's perfect if you need a little light reading**

**Fix You will be updated during the week, and I'll put a teaser on Fictionators. See you then. Choc xx**


	24. Chapter 23

**Fix You Chapter 23**

**20****th**** January 2007**

The porch had been decorated with balloons and streamers, with Alice's name in glittery pink letters arching over the door. Bella stood at the bottom of the steps, her nerves getting the better of her, as she clutched tightly to the purple patterned gift bag. A low throb of music was escaping the house, and flashing colored lights shone through the window, indicating the festivities were in full swing.

She didn't know if she could do this.

Jasper had promised he'd be there all night, and wouldn't leave her side for a moment. He had already arrived, having agreed to play a song for Alice and needing to set up his equipment. Bella knew she would only be alone in there for a matter of minutes before she was under her friends' protection.

But minutes were all it would take. She hadn't seen Esme or Carlisle since she arrived back in London in November; her planned six month stay in Australia having stretched to nearly eighteen. She was so afraid of what they might say to her.

She had arrived in Sydney a wreck; a frightened, depressed girl who had no idea what she was doing. For the first month she had remained in the pit of despair, despite sharing an apartment with an impossibly chipper tour guide who insisted on dragging her all around Sydney, rather than letting her hide under her duvet.

Every day without Edward was like her own, personal hell.

Some days she couldn't remember why she had left him, and it was all she could do to stop herself from picking up the phone and calling to ask him to come and pick her up. To take her mind off the dark thoughts, she found a job in a local bar, supplementing her inheritance with the occasional pay packet, forcing herself to smile at the customers as they leered across the bar at her, their accents confusing her into thinking every sentence was a question.

By the fourth month, she was managing to live in the moment—taking the good with the bad, one day at a time. She was a functioning depressive; outwardly looking like she was holding it all together, while inwardly falling apart.

Then came the call to Marcus, her editor at Music Train, to explain she wouldn't be returning to London. He had accepted with equanimity, and had even offered her some freelance work; an overture she had agonized over for days before accepting life had to go on.

In October, Kate had called her and explained she was setting up a new internet based music magazine, and Bella finally decided to return home. Now she was here—at Alice's eighteenth birthday party—having to face both Esme and Carlisle, and explain why she had disappeared from their lives. It scared the hell out of her.

"Are you coming in or what?" Alice impatiently pulled open the front door. "You've been standing there for hours."

Bella smiled, a genuine, toothy grin, and ran up the stairs. "Happy birthday darling." She threw her arms around the birthday girl and squeezed her tightly.

"I'm so glad you could come. I was worried you wouldn't."

"And miss Jasper's performance? I can't wait to watch you fangirl all over him." Bella watched as Alice's cheeks flushed.

"I don't fangirl, I just think he's a really good singer."

"Van Morrison is a really good singer, Jasper Whitlock is a really _gorgeous_ singer. According to you at least." Bella winked and handed Alice her present. "Don't show this to Esme or Carlisle. I just wanted to get you something pretty to wear in bed."

"Is it sexy?"

"No!" It was Bella's turn to blush. "But it is pretty and sophisticated as befits a young lady. I'm not sure your parents would understand."

As she stepped inside the door, a feeling of familiarity washed over her, like walking into a half-remembered dream. Everything still looked exactly the same, but she felt so very different.

"Jasper told me to bring you straight to him. He's set up in the den." Alice grabbed hold of Bella's hand and pulled her over to the stairs leading down to the basement. "He's planning to play in about half an hour."

"Has he told you what he's going to sing yet?" Bella asked, wondering if she would be able to blog about this later.

"No, he said he wants it to be a surprise."

They had reached the bottom of the stairs, and Bella could hear Jasper plucking at the strings of his Les Paul guitar. As soon as they walked into the room, he looked up through his thick golden lashes and gave her a big grin.

"Hey you."

"Hi." She felt like a child who had just found a lost comfort blanket, and suddenly she could breathe again.

"Have you told her?" He had turned to Alice, a slight frown marring his brow.

"Not yet, I thought we'd better do it down here."

"Told me what?" Bella asked, a feeling of apprehension washing over her.

"Mum and Dad want to see you." Alice blurted, her eyes darting over to Jasper as she realized she had let the cat out of the bag.

"Right now?" Somehow she thought she'd have time before seeing them, she was so unprepared for their reactions to her sudden reappearance in Alice's life.

Jasper rose from his chair and carefully placed his guitar in the stand. Walking over to the two of them he put his arms around both girls and pulled them towards him.

"It's going to be okay. You had to see them again sometime."

"But I'm not ready. I don't know what to say." Somehow 'sorry' didn't seem to cover it.

"It's the perfect place to see them again, it's a party, you can't even hear yourself think."

Bella stepped backwards and sank down into the overstuffed plaid sofa, her heart racing at the thought of having to explain to Esme why she disappeared from all their lives. From her therapy she knew it was a necessary step, to rebuild her relationships and reopen the dialogue. Now it was reality, though, and she was baulking, wanting to delay the inevitable. She wasn't sure she could stand the rejection, or the look of derision she was bound to see in their eyes.

"Do they know I'm coming?" It had been months since her last panic attack, but she recognized the signals immediately. She needed to get control of her breathing and work on getting the negative thoughts out of her mind. God, why wasn't she taking the medication anymore?

"I told them you'd be here. They've already seen Jasper—"

"They're delighted you're coming, you have nothing to worry about," Jasper added.

"You weren't the one who left their son standing in your apartment and got on the next plane to Sydney." Bella pointed out. "Of course they'll be pleased to see you."

"We all know you weren't well, Bella." Alice was stroking her hair now. When did their roles get so switched? "You weren't yourself, but you're better now. Edward doesn't hold a grudge, and neither do my parents."

Closing her eyes, she reminded herself nothing was going to hurt her; she was going to be okay. She repeated the mantra her therapist had taught her; _'my heart is still beating, I am still breathing, I can do this'. _She breathed in through her nose, then out through her mouth, gradually slowing her intake of air until her heart rate had calmed down into a slow, rhythmic pattern.

It took a few minutes before she was able to open her eyes, but when she did she saw Jasper and Alice were still there, sitting next to her, their hands gently touching her as they tried to calm her down.

"I'm okay," she told them, attempting to give them a reassuring smile. "I haven't had one of those for a while."

Alice looked frightened, worrying her lip with her teeth as she continued to stare at her with wide eyes. "I'll just tell them to stay away, Bella. You don't have to see them."

Bella turned in her chair to look at Alice face on. "I'll be fine." Her voice was stronger, and she hoped, reassuring. "I need to see them sometime. After all, we're almost family."

She had barely spoken before Alice threw her arms around Bella, nuzzling into her neck. "I'm so pleased you're back for good. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." Bella found her eyes watering as she hugged her back.

"I really did."

. . .

Esme was standing in the kitchen when Bella finally found the courage to go and see her. It was like the clock had turned back seven years, and Bella was seventeen again; unsure of herself and her place in life, feeling inferior compared to the rich Cullen family and their social confidence.

The absence of Edward was like a knife to the gut. Everywhere she looked there were reminders, of what she'd had, and what she'd lost, a love so foolishly discarded.

More than ever she wanted to turn the clock back, and be that girl again, the one who joked with the Cullens, and helped her mum out at parties; the same girl who had the whole of her life to look forward to, not just a mess to pick up after.

"Hi." Bella stood stock-still in the doorway, over-oxygenated blood pumping around her veins, making her feel jittery and nervous.

Esme turned around, her blank expression transforming into a bright smile as she put her hand on her heart. "Oh, Bella, I can't believe you're here." Dropping the napkin she held in her hand, she ran around the counter and over to the door, pulling Bella into an all-encompassing embrace.

Bella froze at first, surprised at the enthusiasm of Esme's welcome, and then a moment later hugged her back, burying her head in Esme's shoulders as she felt the first hot tears emerge from her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been hugged, not like this, and it reminded her so starkly of what she'd lost. Not just Renee—although her mother's death had been devastating enough—but Edward too.

A moment passed before she lifted her head from Esme's shoulder, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she did. Esme moved her hands to Bella's bare upper arms and stepped backwards, looking at her with a sad smile tugging at her lips.

"I've missed you so much, don't you ever run off again."

Her reprimand made Bella smile through the tears. Esme pulled her into the kitchen, pushing the door behind them to give them privacy, and some protection from the loud bass pumping out from the music system.

"I'm so sorry Esme." Bella bit her lip in an attempt to prevent herself from breaking down. "I don't know what I was thinking. Or maybe I wasn't thinking."

"You were in mourning for your mum, it wasn't your fault. I know you needed space, but I prayed every day you'd come home to us."

"Like the prodigal daughter?" Bella tried to joke, though the sobs were a giveaway.

"Like a much loved family member, Bella, and you are loved so very much. I hope you know that."

"I was so frightened you'd hate me for running away."

"I could never hate you." Esme was crying now, too, inky grey tears streaking her cheeks, and winding down her face. They were both going to need a touch-up before they could be seen in public again.

"I hate myself." Bella admitted quietly. "I'm so angry for everything I did to you, Carlisle and Alice." She took a deep breath. "And Edward."

Her heart sped up just mentioning his name. It was a mixture of fear and sorrow, of remorse and misery. Her stomach clenched with nausea.

"You need to start forgiving yourself then." Esme reached out and cupped Bella's cheek. "because I forgave you long ago. I couldn't blame you anyway, you were so sad and depressed, and reaching out for something you couldn't find. I just hoped you'd manage to discover a level of peace in Australia."

Bella closed her eyes and thought of her time in Sydney. At first she had been lost; realizing the misery she was running away from had just followed her across the world. It had been a stark, wake-up call, and one which hit her hard. But bit by bit she had managed to climb her way out of the pit of despair. It hadn't been easy or quick, and she had fallen more times than she cared to remember, but eventually she had made it out into the bright light of day.

"I'm working on the forgiving part," she admitted wryly, "although it's easier said than done."

"Why don't you tell me about this new job you've got, Alice tells me it's something to do with blogging, whatever a blog is?"

For the first time since she entered the kitchen, a genuine smile crossed Bella's face, lighting up her eyes as she began to speak. "My friend Kate has set up a website for music reviews and things, although she wants to expand it to include other stuff too. I'm the music editor, which is fantastic, and although, at the moment it's just me, I'm recruiting some freelancers to help out."

Esme stood watching her, a smile pulling up at the corner of her lips. "You look so animated when you talk about work, it's beautiful to see."

"It was the only thing keeping me sane," Bella admitted. "When everything else was going tits up, it was something I could rely on."

"You could have relied on us too." Esme's voice was low. "I want you to remember that, if you ever feel so low again."

The nerves returned as Bella realized just how much her rejection must have hurt. If Esme was feeling this bad, then what the hell had she done to Edward?

"I will." Her legs were shaking, and she leaned on the kitchen counter to stop herself from falling. "Thank you for being so kind—"

She was interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, and the swell of music it created. They both turned their heads to see Carlisle standing there, dressed in a pair of grey trousers and a blue sweater, his blond hair falling over his forehead.

"There you are, I think Alice is ready for us to join them in the den." Carlisle smiled at Esme before realizing there was someone else there. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interru—"

He stopped talking the moment his eyes fell on Bella, his mouth dropping open.

"Oh, Carlisle, Bella came to the party, just like she promised Alice she would."

Bella looked at Carlisle and saw a man torn by his emotions. It was like part of him wanted to celebrate her return, and the other part was angry she left in the first place. She wasn't sure which side would win.

"Hello Carlisle."

"Bella." His response was terse.

From the corner of her eye, she could just see Esme gesturing at her husband, although she couldn't make out what she was trying to signal. Carlisle just raised his eyebrows and gave a slight nod. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks." She sounded so stilted and false, no wonder Carlisle was staring at her.

"You had us all worried for a while, especially Edward."

"Carlisle!" Esme's voice was a warning.

"It's okay, Esme, I know he's right." Bella interjected. "I was an idiot, and I hate the way I treated him." His name was out in the open now, and she was grabbing at it like a drowning man clinging to a life raft. "How_ is_ Edward doing?"

Carlisle walked forward and stopped in front of Bella, his height making her feel dwarfed in comparison. He reminded her so much of Edward, from the way he stood, to the way he talked, and it both hurt and comforted her.

"I'm not going to lie to you Bella, he took it really hard." His words were controlled, like he was acting as a check on himself. "For a while he was as depressed as you were, but he's doing much better now. He seems to have moved on with his life, and accepted you're not coming back."

His words clattered around her mind like a can being kicked down an alleyway; she didn't know how to react. She should be pleased he'd moved on, and he was okay without her. She wanted to hit herself for feeling disappointed instead.

It was too late. In her effort to save herself, she had killed their relationship and any respect he must have had for her. Feeling a fresh sting of tears against her eyelids, she squeezed them shut again, reminding herself this was supposed to be a happy occasion; it was her best friend's birthday, and she was going to do her damnedest to celebrate.

On the outside, at least, she would be dancing.

* * *

**A/N - Thank you to SunflowerFran, CutestKidsMom and SparrowNotes24 for your help. I couldn't do this without you - not least because I still need to learn to use commas.  
**

**Huge gratitude to you all for reading, reviewing and recommending. Hopefully I managed to reply to most of you - and apologies to those that I didn't. I do put a teaser up every week on the Fictionators Teaser Monday - go and take a look, there's loads of good fics on there.  
**

**Want to chat? Come join me on Facebook or Twitter - links are on my profile, I'd love to see you there!**


	25. Chapter 24

**Fix You Chapter 24**

**14****th**** September 2007**

Bella opened the shabby green door leading up to 'The Buzz's' cramped offices above a Soho pub. Freezing in the winter and overly-hot in the summer, the room was the right size for their staff—if that was the right word for the motley crew of journalists working on the blog. There were four desks squeezed into the room, all overflowing with paper, rubbish and empty coffee mugs. Kate's one attempt to introduce a clean-desk policy had been treated with derision, and disorder still reigned.

Walking across the office, she noticed a pair of Jimmy Choos peeping out from under the desk next to hers.

"What the heck are you up to, Angela?" Bella asked, smiling at the incongruity of the well-dressed 'Celebrity Gossip Editor' crawling around on the dusty floor.

"Fecking computer's gone tits up again. I can't get the bloody thing to work." The soft lilt of Angela's Irish accent lessened the impact of her cursing. "I'm gonna have to call Ben out."

"That'll be a hardship for you," Bella replied dryly. She'd spent most of the summer watching Angela trying to master the technology underpinning the blog, and failing miserably. She suspected Angela's inability to make her computer work for more than a day might have more to do with the huge crush she had on their IT technician, than the fallibility of her computer.

"He's gorgeous, so he is." Angela's face lit up at the thought of Ben Cheney having to come out to the office again. "If I call him at ten, he might get here in time for lunch."

"Well, don't forget we're meant to be going out tonight." Bella switched on her own computer, which miraculously loaded up without any difficulty.

"Is Jasper Whitlock really going to be there? Isn't that going to be a crack?"

"He reckons if he wears a beanie, nobody will recognize him." Bella replied dryly. "I hate to piss on his parade, but he'll be lucky if he doesn't cause some sort of riot at the Dog and Den."

"D'ye reckon he'll give me an interview about Britney's performance at the VMAs?" Angela's head popped out from under the desk, her face wearing a hopeful expression, "because she bombed big time."

"I never ask Jasper for any gossip. It's an unwritten rule of our friendship, I don't ask him for titbits, and he doesn't ask me for a good review. It works." Bella smiled at the thought of him; despite all the years that had passed—and the troubles they had been through—Jasper was the one constant in her life, along with her friendship with Alice.

"What's the point in that?" Angela's lightly tanned face scrunched into a grimace. She couldn't understand why anybody wouldn't want to find out all the gossip—it was one of the reasons she was so good at her job.

"The point is," Bella replied dryly, "neither of us uses the other. We met before he was famous and I was a journalist, and we try not to let it change us."

Angela muttered something unintelligible and pushed herself out from under the desk, cursing loudly as her skirt got caught on the leg of her chair, creating a loud ripping sound.

Trying to repress her smile, Bella turned to her computer and started pulling up the article she needed to edit. Her writing for the blog was shorter and more concise than it had been for Music Train. The nature of the medium demanded more frequent, shorter updates, and she had easily adapted to the requirements of blogging. Happy with the piece – a 500 count review of the latest Hard-Fi album—she quickly posted it on the website before flicking through her diary to see what she needed to do the following week.

Alice arrived at 5:00pm; her purple Doc Martens could be heard clattering on the tiled stairs as she ran up them. Seeing her poke her head around the door made Bella smile; because as she had done nearly a decade ago, Alice had dyed her hair a dark, dark red and taken to wearing only black. It was the ultimate form of flattery.

"Hi Alice," Kate called, looking up from her laptop, "we're nearly ready to go once Angela gets back from her lunch with Ben."

Alice looked confused, glancing down at her watch. "But it's five o'clock, isn't it a little late for lunch?"

Kate and Bella burst out laughing, their heartfelt hilarity causing Alice to join in. "She left at noon; she hasn't seen fit to come back yet," Kate replied.

"She's with our IT guy," Bella added, winking at Alice to give her the hint. "I assume he's trying to sort out her more…technical problems."

The office door swung open, interrupting their laughter, and Angela rushed in, a streak of bright clothing and flushed red face. Bella noted with amusement she had somehow found time to change her clothes.

"I'm so sorry about that," Angela was biting her lip and staring hopefully over at Kate. "It took Ben an age to explain what I'm doing wrong with the fecking computer."

"What's the verdict?" Bella asked, logging off her own and shutting it down.

"I need to use the 'on' button."

It took every ounce of self-restraint Bella had not to vocalize a witty reply. She had to remind herself that Alice—although eighteen—was still fairly innocent.

"I need to write a quick blog before I go," Angela pulled her chair out and sat down heavily, "D'ye want me to meet you at the pub, or are ye gonna wait for me?"

"We'll wait. Clearly something important must have happened for you to be writing a quick blog." Kate shut her own laptop down, pulling out her lipstick and gliding it across her mouth.

"It's not good news." Alice pulled her lips down into a mock-frown. "One of my good informants tells me another gloriously eligible millionaire has been snatched up. That means one less for me."

"Is Ben not a millionaire?" Bella asked innocently.

"Not even fecking close. I had to pay for lunch, and drive him back to my place—" Angela stopped talking as soon as she realized she'd outed herself, and quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, I'd have definitely gone for this Edward Cullen, he's hot, rich and young; and apparently taken."

Alice ran over to Kate's desk, while Bella found herself frozen at her own, her hands shaking as she tried not to look as if she was paying too much attention.

"Hey, that's my brother!" Alice was looking over Angela's shoulders at the report. "I can't believe he's got engaged to Lauren."

"He's your brother?" Angela's voice went up an octave, into screech territory. "Can I have a quote?"

"Angela." Bella's voice was a warning, and she hoped the gossip columnist would heed it. "Alice is a friend, not an informant."

"Damn it! Can you at least tell me something about this Lauren Devries? I won't attribute it to you or anything? I need to know where to find some more information about her."

Bella could feel her stomach churning as the girls continued to talk, it was like all the bones in her body had turned to jelly, and she was unable to sit still.

He was getting married.

Jesus, she didn't really want to think about it, but it was the final nail in the coffin. She had never held out much hope—not really—but the knowledge he was getting married to somebody else about slayed her. Somehow she was going to have to go out tonight with his sister, and look as if the news hadn't affected her one little bit.

It was going to be a long night.

. . .

Drinking her sorrows away seemed like an excellent remedy for heartache. Sitting in a booth in the pub on the Portobello Road, she tried to pay attention to Jasper, who was positioned with his back to the crowd, his hat pulled down tight over his head. Bella had laughed at his useless plan to fool the rest of the pub by wearing a beanie in the September heat, but at least they hadn't been approached by any fans. They seemed to be maintaining a respectable distance, only snapping the occasionally picture of him with their camera phones.

Ben Cheney—the IT engineer—had joined them, but he and Angela could have been sitting in a completely different pub for all the attention they were paying to the rest of the group. Kate was standing at the bar, chatting up a good-looking local, leaving Bella and Alice to listen to Jasper's tales of woe.

"I can't seem to find the right girl. Ever since Jezzie left I've been at a loose end. Girls only want me for my money or the fame."

Bella's lips twitched at the baleful expression on his face. Glancing to the side, she could see Alice listening avidly, her body turned toward Jasper as she licked her lips to moisten them.

"You only split up with her last month." Frankly, Bella had been amazed it lasted as long as it did. Four years in the celebrity world was like a lifetime anywhere else. She didn't even want to think what the two of them actually talked about when they lay in bed at night after doing…whatever they did.

"I don't like being alone." The corner of Jasper's lip pulled up into a crooked smile. "I rattle around in the house like a walnut in a can."

Bella drained her glass of white wine, trying not to think of how alone _she_ felt. "You do have a four-bedroomed house, Jasper. Have you ever thought of downsizing?"

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Alice inching her stool toward Jasper's. No good was going to come of this, she was sure.

"I like my house," he protested, his lower lip poking out in a post, "I want somebody to share it with."

"Don't we all?" Bella replied tartly, before standing up and walking over to the bar to order herself another glass of wine. She was determined to drink herself into oblivion tonight, to forget about Edward and his engagement to Lauren. And if she was lucky, maybe she could find some attractive Londoner to flirt with.

She felt uneasy leaving Jasper and Alice alone at the table, knowing Ben and Angela would be no help in chaperoning the two of them. Although Alice was eighteen now, she still seemed so young to Bella and she felt very protective of her. As for Jasper, both before and after—and possibly during—his relationship with Jezzika he had been a bit of a man-whore. Not the person she would choose for Alice to hook up with.

"What can I get you, love?" The barman's voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she ordered a large Pinot Grigio, before turning to talk to Kate.

"Bella, this is Stefan, Stefan, this is Bella." Kate introduced her to the guy she'd been flirting with all night. He was a good ten years younger than her, but looked entranced by Kate's every move. Bella couldn't help but feel a hint of jealousy begin to lick at her heart; it seemed like everybody was hooking up with someone apart from her.

Even Edward bloody Cullen.

She lifted her glass from the bar and wandered over to the old-time jukebox in the far corner of the pub. Every time she came here, she ended up propping herself on the brown veneered Wurlitzer, feeding money into it and trying to educate the musical tastes of the disinterested masses. Unfortunately, somebody had already beaten her to it, and was playing a record she hated.

In fact, she despised the song. All the music channels had been playing it throughout the summer, and everywhere she went, she couldn't escape the words. Sometimes it seemed they'd been written especially to hound her.

"_..what's it like in New York City, you're a thousand miles away, but girl tonight you look so pretty, yes you do.."_

She sent a dirty look to the guy who had chosen the music, his ironed jeans and crisp white shirt giving him away as a city boy out for a good time. Bella glared at him some more before downing the rest of her wine, the room starting to sway slightly beneath her feet.

She liked the mellow glow the alcohol was giving her. Everything in the room seemed softer, less abrasive. The men even seemed attractive.

"You like this music?" City boy leaned forward, shouting over the base. His dark hair fell over his forehead, making him blink in response.

"It's shit," Bella replied. When he shook his head to indicate he couldn't hear her, she moved toward him and repeated the words as she spoke straight into his ear.

"Not a Plain White T's fan I guess?"

"They're a little bit…meh. I can take or leave them, but I hate this track, it's been following me around all summer. It's stalking me." She was finding it harder to get the words out, it was like her tongue had grown inside her mouth and she had to learn to talk again.

"Can I buy you a drink?" His lips were close to her face and his breath on her skin encouraged the goosebumps to appear.

"Yes." She attempted to smile at him.

After he'd brought her drink back, Bella found herself flirting outrageously, playing him record after record and regaling him with dirty stories about the groups performing them. He listened avidly, smiling back at her, his gaze never moving away from her face.

She scrolled through the list of artists, until she found 'The National' and started playing 'Fake Empire', one of her favorite songs. City Boy pulled her to him, putting his hands on her hips as he swayed them both in time to the music. He wasn't much taller than her, and their bodies lined up perfectly. Bella wasn't sure if she was enjoying the sensation of his pelvis against hers or not.

"I really want to take you home with me," he breathed into her ear, and her body responded automatically; her breasts tingling with anticipation.

"I don't even know your name."

City Boy grinned cockily back at her. "You don't need to know my name, sweetheart, I'll have you calling me 'God' by the end of the night."

Bella nearly spluttered up the remains of her wine. "Does that line ever work?" She was genuinely interested.

"Nah, not really," he admitted, his grin becoming cheeky. "I thought it was worth giving it a go."

For a moment she was tempted. She could hardly remember the last time she'd had sex, it was so long ago. She missed the intimacy, the tactile nature. She wanted to love and be loved.

Impulsively she tipped her head up and brushed her lips against his, feeling the sensual throb of the song reverberate through her body. She wanted to stay out super late and pick apples, like the lyrics suggested.

She felt his tongue push into her mouth at the same time his hands moved around to cup her behind. It was strange being so intimate with another guy—particularly in such a public place—but she felt a warm glow light up inside her. She wanted to be wanted.

"Let me take you home," he murmured into her lips, "you won't regret it."

Bella was certain she _would_ regret it, but found herself nodding anyway, feeling him harden against her stomach in response. It was like her agreement had detonated a bomb; he was suddenly all over her, sucking at her skin, his hands delving into inappropriate places, as his knee rose up against her pelvis.

Her cheeks took on a high color. She wasn't drunk enough not to be embarrassed at his public display of indecency, and she regretted not asking for a large wine, or maybe even some shots.

"Are you ready to leave?" Bella turned her head to see Jasper standing next to her, his lips pulled back into a grim line. She was surprised to see him standing so blatantly in the middle of the pub; wasn't he trying to stay anonymous?

"She's coming with me." City Boy squared up to Jasper, and Bella could feel her face get even redder.

"I don't think so, pal." The country lilt in Jasper's voice seemed to be stronger next to City Boy's estuary twang, and Bella wondered if her suitor knew who he was.

"Who are you, her boyfriend? We've been messing around here all night right in front of your eyes, _mate_." City emphasized the last word to imply Jasper was anything other than his friend.

They were kids arguing over who got the last cookie, and Bella turned her head to see Alice still sitting at the booth, her mouth opened in shock. Bella wanted the ground to rise up and swallow her whole.

"Let's go, Jasper," she muttered, pulling at his arm.

"So now you're blowing me off?" City was getting angry.

"Nobody's getting blown off tonight." Jasper interjected, pulling Bella away from him. "Bella's had a hard day, and a little too much to drink. There's no way I'm letting her leave with you."

Now she'd had enough. Bella pulled her arm away from Jasper's grasp and slammed her glass down on a nearby table. She could feel everybody staring at them as Jasper and City continued to shout at each other.

"I'm leaving," she huffed.

Seeing City's face light up with hope, she added, "alone."

Jasper grabbed at her arm again, his fingers circling around her wrist as she tried to pull away. Some people were taking surreptitious photographs, or maybe even recording the confrontation. Bella had a horrible premonition she'd be featuring on Buzz's celebrity blog the next morning.

"Let me make sure you get home, okay? Alice needs us to take her home as well." He was the voice of reason.

"She can stay at mine," Bella said, gesturing to Alice they were leaving. "She seems to spend more time at my flat than at her own home anyway."

"That's because she loves you." His voice was soothing, like a mother trying to calm down an angry child. "She worries about you as much as I do."

"I'm fine, honestly." They'd reached the exit to the pub, and for a single moment Bella thought it was already morning. The lights flashing in her eyes turned out to be from cameras, not the sun, and she realized that some asshole from the pub had alerted the paparazzi to Jasper's presence.

And they'd arrived mob-handed.

"Fuck," Jasper swore, totally unprepared for the onslaught. None of them had thought to order a taxi before leaving the pub, so instead they had to run the gamut of the photographers until they reached a black cab idling outside a nearby restaurant, its 'for hire' light on.

They all bundled into the back of the car, Jasper slamming the door behind him to block out the incessant flashes, before turning his body to the driver and giving him Bella's address

Bella leaned back in her seat. The adrenaline rush from their fraught escape wearing off, leaving her feeling more miserable than before. Her actions had led up to the paparazzi being tipped off, and it was her fault there would be some made-up story in the papers the next day about his jealousy and her flirting.

The last thing any of them needed was that sort of publicity.

"Well, that should bump your sales up this month," Alice remarked bluntly as the cab sped through Notting Hill.

"Thanks, Alice, I'll remember that when my gran calls to give me an earful," Jasper replied dryly.

Bella said nothing, watching them joke and poke at each other, their mutual amusement making her feel more shut out.

She would have given anything right to be sitting in a cab with Edward, being light-hearted and riling each other up. But they'd never stood a chance. Between the distance, her depression and their insurmountable differences, they were doomed from the start.

Now he was getting married, to a suitable girl from an estimable family, and she should feel happy he'd found a way to move on.

Even it if broke her already-fractured heart.

* * *

**A/N I'm going to be away on vacation this week, and although the next chapter is written and beta'd, I'm not sure if I'll have enough reception to post it. If not, then the next update will be on Saturday, but I'll do all I can to get it out earlier!  
**

**Many thanks to Sunflowerfran , Sparrownotes24 and Cutestkidsmom for all their help.**

**Thank you for reading and for all your reviews, I love reading them, and respond whenever I can. If you want to chat, come join me on Facebook or twitter, links are in my profile. **

**See you next time, when...uh...they meet again (squeals).**


	26. Chapter 25

**Fix You Chapter 25**

**12****th**** March 2008**

She had deliberately arrived late, driving Jasper mad with her procrastinating as she ran back into the house repeatedly. First to check she had turned the heating off, next to make sure she had unplugged her hair straighteners. Finally, she had to go back in to make sure she had switched the burglar alarm back on, having turned it off the previous two times.

She knew she was putting off the inevitable, but it really didn't make her feel any better.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Jasper reached out and took her hand, keeping his other palm steady on the steering wheel as his car idled outside her apartment.

"Not really." Bella swallowed down the feeling of nausea, reminding herself she had gone through much worse than this before.

"We don't have to stay for too long. Let's watch the ceremony, drink the free alcohol, then drive back to town and have a party for two."

Bella smirked. Their parties for two nowadays had toned down to a cup of tea in front of the evening news. Some days she felt much more advanced than her twenty-six years.

"I'm not going to let the Cullens down, Jasper. I promised them a real-life celebrity at the wedding, and by God they're going to get it."

Her words caused Jasper to glance in the rear-view mirror. The usual black utility vehicle was following behind them, containing his security advisor. It had amused Bella no end, the first time she had met Damon, and she found herself quoting from 'The Bodyguard' constantly. She had no greater wish than to see Damon carry Jasper away from a perceived threat. It would have made her day.

"They want me to take the heat off them," Jasper muttered. The prevalence of cell phone cameras were making his life a misery. He was constantly complaining he 'couldn't even take a slash without it being on Perez Hilton the next day.'

His words allowed Bella to gain some levity, to brace herself against the impending occasion. She pulled down the sunshade and glanced at herself in the vanity mirror. For once her make-up looked natural and even, and her hair was behaving itself despite the permanent wet drizzle in the air.

"You're going to stay with me at all times, right?" she asked, leaning forward to switch on the radio, wincing when the drum and bass came out at full volume. "Jesus, how can you stand to listen to this shit?"

"Would you rather I was playing a 'Fatal Limits' album?" Jasper looked amused, "because I might have a few in the glove box."

Bella turned and stared at him, her eyes narrowing. "The new one?"

"Do you mean the recently recorded, unedited, unreleased version?" Jasper was still drumming his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the cacophony emanating from the car stereo.

"No." Bella deadpanned. "I only like hearing your old songs."

Slapping at her leg, he reached across her and pulled open the glove box. All the CDs he had pushed inside came tumbling out onto Bella's legs, some falling into the foot well, making her scramble around to pick them up.

Ignoring her remonstrating, Jasper picked up a blank cd and pushed it into the stereo, the soft sounds of his band soothing Bella's ears.

He lasted a couple of minutes into the first song before he asked her what she thought.

By this time Bella had stuffed the glove compartment again and snapped it closed, making a mental note to never let it be opened again in her presence. It was an accident waiting to happen.

"It's a change from the last album," she ventured, her brow dipping as she concentrated on the music, noting the guitar-based band was going heavy on the electronics, and a discordant base seemed to thread its way through all the tracks.

"We wanted to try something new." Jasper attempted a nonchalant shrug, then noticing Bella's concentration, he decided to shut up and let her listen.

They remained silent throughout their hour-long journey. Bella was so intent on listening to the music, she barely noticed when Jasper pulled the car into the driveway and came to a halt. It was only when she looked up she realized they were at Chalkley Manor, ready to see the eldest Cullen son be married off to his fiancé of a year.

Bella let out a puff of air, staring straight ahead at the dashboard as she reminded herself she gave up the right to feel this way, three years ago.

Edward had every right to move on. She had all but begged him to. She had told him there was no hope for them, and she didn't want him to follow her.

So why the hell did she feel so low?

"You ready?" Jasper pulled the key from the ignition and leaned toward the rear-view mirror, pulling his lips over his teeth and rubbing them with his finger, as if he was checking for bits in between them.

"Yes." Bella pulled the door open and slid her legs around, smoothing the tight blue dress over her thighs. The heels of her stilettos buried themselves into the gravel, and she found herself having to work extra hard to walk across the driveway.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Whitlock," she growled, as Jasper watched her efforts with amusement. "Otherwise you're gonna have to carry me."

"I'd love to, but I've got a world tour coming up, darlin'. I don't want to do myself an injury."

When they reached the front of the Country House, they saw the interior had been festooned with white ribbons woven into intricate designs, topped with pink roses and foliage attached to banisters and furniture, making the whole thing seem like an indoor grotto. It was a little over-the-top for Bella's taste, but she refrained from making a snarky comment to Jasper, aware she was already seen as the black sheep of the congregation.

They were ushered into the main ballroom, which had been set up for the wedding ceremony. Bella and Jasper sat in the back row of chairs, both of them hoping to dip somewhere under the radar—albeit for different reasons.

The few minutes before the ceremony was due to begin allowed Bella the chance to look around without being watched, and she luxuriated in her anonymity. She could see Esme and Carlisle, seated in the front row, along with Alice and Esme's mother, who was still going strong at 93. Bella didn't even want to think how Lilian had managed to survive a seven hour plane journey, but she had to give her kudos for doing so.

In front of them, Edward and Emmett stood to the right of the room, and though Bella could only see the backs of their heads, they were both completely recognizable. Neither could stand still, and she watched as Emmett jabbed Edward in the side, swiftly followed by a return slap on the arm from Edward. Esme leaned forward and said something to them, and whatever it was, it made them both crack up in laughter. Bella gasped as she saw Edward's profile as he turned, the sunlight through the front window creating a halo effect behind his head.

He was still as beautiful as she remembered, and her slight gasp caused Jasper to put his arm around her shoulder, and squeeze her arm lightly. She followed the line of Edward's straight nose, past his lips and to his razor-sharp jaw. She couldn't tell from here if he was clean shaven—although she assumed he was—but somewhere in her mind the memory of breakfasts in bed, stubbled jaws and clothes strewn around the room, came to the surface, causing a prick of tears to come to her mind.

Edward leaned down and whispered something to the woman seated beside Lillian, and she reached out and smoothed down his jacket. Bella held her breath as Edward smiled at her, with his crooked, gentle smile, and Bella realized he had to be talking to Lauren, his fiancée and future wife.

Before she could find an appropriate reaction to the scene playing out before her, the wedding march started, and everyone turned to see Rose walking down the aisle, on her father's arm, followed by an assortment of bridesmaids. Turning to watch the bridal procession also alerted the guests to Jasper's presence, and Bella watched in angry astonishment as more than a few people started to take pictures with their camera phones, ignoring the bride altogether.

She began to wonder if bringing a famous singer to a Cullen wedding was such a good idea.

"Looks like the cat's out of the bag," she whispered, as Jasper tried to act nonchalant and ignore the flashes. "I'm so sorry."

"It happens all the time," Jasper replied, glancing over his shoulder to see a security guard trying to remain invisible at the back of the room. "Don't sweat it Bella, I'm here for you."

They had debated back and forth for days whether she should even attend the wedding. At first she thought it had been a cursory invitation, only issued in the hope she would refuse it. But both Esme and Emmett had called and urged her to attend, and promised her there would be no weirdness between Edward and her. Esme had even gone as far as suggesting Jasper be her 'plus one', no doubt urged on by Alice, who maintained an impressive devotion for the singer.

The ceremony passed without hitch, although Bella always found herself holding her breath at the part when the celebrant asked "If any person here present, knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, they should declare it now." She had watched way too many movies when a member of the congregation would jump up and shout 'yes', causing a scene she could do without.

Luckily, nobody even muttered, and the rest of the ceremony was able to continue.

They moved into the dining room for the customary Wedding Breakfast, a name that always made Bella laugh, as it was traditionally eaten in the afternoon. She and Jasper were placed on a table along with some of Emmett's travelling friends, and they entertained them constantly with tales of his ineptitude, and general stupidity abroad. They didn't seem to care about Jasper's celebrity, and nor did they ask Bella about her relationship to the family. She did, however, find herself sneaking glances over at the Top Table, where Rosalie and Emmett were flanked by their families and bridesmaids, including Edward and Lauren who were seated toward one end.

"You need to stop looking over there," Jasper whispered to her, after a particularly long stare. "Eventually he's going to notice."

Bella blushed, and dragged her eyes away yet again. Glancing at her watch she wondered how the hell she was going to get through the rest of the day. The invitation had said 'Carriages at midnight' which meant the dancing was due to go on until at least 11.30 pm, and she wasn't sure she could go for another eight hours without making a fool out of herself.

"Keep reminding me," she replied, before turning to the guy called 'Mosh' who sat on her left, and was trying to regale her with a particularly lurid story involving Emmett, a forgotten toothbrush and a toilet scraper. Bella was pleased she'd finished her food before he'd started on his anecdote.

After dinner came the toasts, and when Edward rose to give the best man's speech, she felt Jasper put his hand around her shoulders once again, and she leaned into him, grateful he was there to support her. To hear Edward talk about true love was like a knife to the heart, no matter how light-hearted and funny he made his speech, so she tuned out his words and watched his face. His soft lips moved as he spoke, and occasionally his eyebrows rose up to accentuate a joke, at which point the guests all joined in the laughter. Her favorite part was when he made the toast to the happy couple. She watched as he picked up his champagne to take a sip, and his pronounced adam's apple bobbed below the taut skin of his neck.

He had told her once that what they had would never be over. At the time she'd thought he was referring to himself, but the irony was that it was Bella who would never be over this. He had every right to move on with his life in her absence, but to watch him turn and smile at his fiancée was like a thousand knives stabbing her skin, and she could barely take a sip of champagne without wanting to bring it right back up.

As afternoon darkened into evening, the guests returned to the ballroom for the entertainment. A band had set up in the corner, playing modern, middle-of-the-road music which both Bella and Jasper found amusing. Slowly people trickled onto the dance floor, fuelled up with alcohol and food and ready to bust a move.

Jasper had wandered to the bathroom, promising Bella he would return as quickly as he could, and Bella found herself at the bar, ordering a beer in the hope it would lend her some of that Dutch courage that people always talked about.

"Hi." His voice came from the right, and she turned to see Edward, with Lauren standing alongside her. Her mind momentarily blanked, and she could feel her panic starting to rise as she tried to think of something to say.

"Hi." Bingo.

"Bella, I'd like you to meet Lauren Devries. Lauren, this is Bella Swan." Bella automatically put her hand out and shook the girl's hand, surprised at her soft skin and limp wrist. A small smile danced across Lauren's red lips, her blonde bob just touching the bare skin of her shoulders. She was of a similar height to Bella, although thinner, as if she watched every morsel that passed her lips. The fact that Lauren was beautiful didn't come as any surprise to Bella, though she had to admit it was still a kick in the teeth.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lauren." She was surprising herself with her social graces. They were like a reflex action, so ingrained, that saying the words was automatic.

"You too. Are you a friend of Rose?"

So Edward had never told Lauren who she was? Bella found this interesting, and for the first time turned to look at him. His green eyes stared at her, focused on her face, but not her eyes. It was like he was gazing at her lips, and for some reason she found herself moistening them with the tip of her tongue.

"No, I'm Alice's friend." It was as good an explanation as any.

"Hey, what have I missed?" Jasper's voice was like cold lemonade on a hot day, and Bella reached out to take his hand.

"Edward was introducing me to Lauren." Bella replied.

"Oh my goodness, you're that singer aren't you? My sister loves your music." Lauren's smile lit up her face, and Bella found herself cataloguing all the reasons she hated beautiful, American women.

"Ah, thanks. Are you a music fan?"

Lauren leaned forward and whispered, conspiratorially, "I don't really listen to music at all."

Bella's eyebrows shot up as if they were trying to merge with her hairline. She was trying not to look amused, but clearly failing, and her eyes automatically moved to look at Edward. He, too seemed to be restraining a smile. As soon as he looked back at her, a grin broke out and Bella found herself returning it.

And God, it felt good.

Despite the band's mediocrity, Bella and Jasper made an ironic attempt to dance. She collapsed in a fit of giggles when he started throwing himself all over the place in a parody of John Travolta, causing more than a few cell phones to be turned to 'video'. She couldn't help but feel grateful to him, for supporting her at the wedding, for literally throwing himself under a bus to make her smile. He was a true friend.

Alice joined them later, and wanting to give her friend at least something to talk about when she returned to university, Bella gestured to them she was going to the bathroom, leaving Jasper and Alice doing a particularly interesting rendition of the Macarena.

It was getting late, and the guests had thinned out. The bathroom was empty when Bella walked in. It was elegantly decorated with real guest towels and Molton Brown soap—no hand dryer and blue soap for guests at Chalkley Manor.

Rubbing hand lotion into her palms, she opened the door to walk outside, only to see Edward standing right there, his face serious, his lips thin, his eyebrows dipped.

"Can I ask you something?" He gently pushed her back into the bathroom, and Bella felt her heart beat faster at the sensation of his hand as it circled her wrist. They'd both been drinking all night, and she wondered if it was him, or the drink, talking.

"Yes." It was the only reply that sprung to mind, and she breathed it out like her life depended on it.

"Are you and Jasper fucking?"

Hearing him say it made her eyes fly wide open and her mouth drop. For a moment she felt angry, for his intrusion and his coarse language. But her face softened as she started to wonder his reasons for asking.

"No. We're just friends." She watched as relief washed over his face, and suddenly she felt angry again, knowing he had somebody new and she was all alone.

Even if it was her own fault.

"In fact, Edward, since you asked so nicely, I haven't fucked anybody in three years." The implication was there, he was the last man she had slept with.

He moved closer, so their bodies were inches apart, and she felt herself stiffen in reaction to his proximity. A tiny step forward and their bodies would be locked together. All she'd have to do would be to tip her head up and allow him to dip his down, until their lips met in an explosive kiss.

And she could guarantee it would be amazing, because the way they were both breathing heavily, they were seconds away from acting on it.

"Why not?" His voice was strained, and she could see his hands curl into fists, as if he was trying to stop himself touching her.

Bella hesitated. The answer was dancing on her lips, playing on her tongue, but to say it would be to let him know exactly how she felt about him. Was she ready for that?

She found herself leaning toward him, until their chests were barely touching, and though they were both fully clothed, she felt raw and exposed. His eyes searched hers, and she felt the need for honesty, to throw herself before him and admit what she'd done.

"Because it's only ever been you."

A flush crept up his face, and his expression changed from confusion to complete and utter rage. Bella stepped back, fearing his response. He let out a furious growl before turning and slamming his fist into the mirror attached to the bathroom wall, making it shatter into jagged shards and fall over the basin and onto the tiled floor.

The seconds that passed seemed like hours as they were both glued to the spot, unable to move in the face of her revelation and his reaction. Edward was cradling his wrist, and Bella moved to touch it, seeing blood beading at his knuckles, wanting to do something to take the pain away.

The physical pain, at least.

"You can't do this." Edward's face was still feral, as he unclasped his hand and moved it up to lift her chin. "You can't come waltzing back into my life and tell me you only ever wanted me. Tell me it's a lie."

Bella shook her head, unwilling to answer his demand.

"Fuck it, Bella, sitting out in the ballroom is the girl I've asked to marry me, and she doesn't have a goddamned clue what's going on. Do you expect me to break her heart, the way you broke mine?"

"No." The tears were flowing now, and she could feel them running down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

She meant it. About everything.

Edward reached out his injured hand and shakily drew it down her cheek, wiping away her tears, until he reached her mouth. His thumb lingered at her lips, touching them so lightly she could barely feel it. Knowing he was close to the edge, she stood very still; unable to move for fear he would leave.

"I'm going to go now, and I'm going to try and forget every word you said to me." Edward leaned toward her, and brushed his lips against her wet cheek. It took every ounce of strength Bella had, not to turn into the kiss and press her mouth against his. "Please don't follow me, or try to talk to me, I don't think I'd be able to restrain myself."

"Okay." Bella's voice was still a whisper, and she stood as still as a statue among the debris of glass scattered over the floor.

Edward backed away from her, never once averting his gaze until he reached the door, and after pulling it open, he turned to look at her one last time.

"I've never seen you looking as beautiful as you do right now."

* * *

**A/N If you're reading this, then I've managed to post this from Paris - so Bonjour!**

**Many thanks to SunflowerFran for beta'ing, and to SparrowNotes24 and Cutestkidsmom for being such great pre-readers, and friends.  
**

**And all the hugs in the world to you, for reading, reviewing and recommending.  
**

**And a shameless plug - my collaboration with SparrowNotes24, THE ART OF GETTING FLUFFED By Chocolatesparrow, is up for fic of the week at tehlemonadestand dot net. If you have the time to take a look, we would love your vote. There are loads of great fics up there, and it's a great site for fic recs.**

**Thanks for reading - see you on Saturday. Choc xx**


	27. Chapter 26

**Fix You Chapter 26**

**March 2009**

Edward scanned his eyes down the list of new rentals, barely listening as the head of the Real Estate division took the board through the quarterly business review. Since the subprime disaster the previous year, the division had been haemorrhaging dollars, and he had to keep a much closer eye on what used to be run-of-the-mill, regular transactions.

New rules had been created, including more severe credit checks, increased deposits and a deep dive into their renters' accounts, ensuring they were renting to companies which had a future.

"What's this one?" Seth Clearwater pointed to a small transaction at the bottom of the first page. "Buzz Media sounds like a risky choice."

"They're an internet media company based in London." Marco, the head of real estate, pushed his lanky dark hair out of his eyes. "They've passed all our checks, and our realtor has met with their representative. He's given me a full rundown."

"How long have they been in business?" Edward asked, turning the pages in front of him until he found the more detailed transaction.

"Nearly three years, they're not a start-up. One of the partners has flown out to set up their New York office; she's the one our realtor has been dealing with."

Black Enterprises owned real estate across the country, and rarely dealt directly with their renters. Instead they employed a third-party to manage the buildings for them, and only recently had Edward even had to play a role in making sure the leases were signed with companies that weren't about to fold.

It was a sign of the times.

As he reached the bottom of the page, he saw her name, and did a double take. The last person he ever expected to see renting property in Manhattan was Isabella Swan.

"Are you sure they're in it for the long term?" he stared at her name again, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as he tried to take the news in.

"Absolutely, they're in the process of recruiting a director to be based in New York. Their representative from London assures me it is a long-term deal."

Edward leaned back and steepled his fingers, allowing the rest of the board to continue asking questions as he pondered the fact she was back in New York. After all she'd said about this town, and all the times she'd refused to move here when they were together. Now she was living here and he hadn't even known it.

He chuckled quietly, berating himself for even thinking about her. The last time he'd seen her—at Emmett's wedding—he'd made it clear he didn't want her to ever contact him again. So why would he expect her to tell him, after he had been so adamant that night? But the knowledge that she lived only a few miles away from him came like a bolt from the blue.

The bigger question was why his father hadn't let him know, and Edward was pretty sure he knew the answer to that. Carlisle had seen the state he had been in after she'd left him, and had even noticed their meeting at Emmett's wedding. He'd left Edward in no doubt how he felt about him following her into the bathroom.

The door of the conference room opened, and Heidi poked her head around the door, pointing to the phone she held in her hand. Edward got the message and pushed himself up to standing, wandering over to the door and whispering to his assistant.

"Who is it?"

"It's Lauren, she says it's urgent. She has your mom with her."

Edward pulled the door closed behind him, and walked into the corridor, lifting the handset to his ear.

"Lauren?" He didn't mean to sound quite so severe, but they'd already discussed the frequency of her calls. He'd tried to explain that even if something seemed urgent to her, it didn't mean she should disturb him during a meeting.

"Edward, we're at the Westchester Country Club." In the background, Edward could hear his mother's voice as she whispered something to Lauren. "It looks amazing, their wedding services are fabulous. And they've recommended the most fantastic planner. She's not cheap, but she's the best and we really need to give her a call."

"Couldn't this wait until tonight?" His words were sharp, but his tone teased.

"But I'm going away tomorrow, and I really want to call and make us an appointment. If we don't get in soon, they're going to be fully booked. They're already full until summer 2011." Her voice was breathless with excitement, and Edward closed his eyes momentarily, wondering why he had to get involved with the organizing at all. He would be happier just signing a blank check and turning up on the day. But if Lauren wanted the whole shebang, then that's what she would get.

"Give them a call then, and set something up. You'll have to tie up with Heidi about timings."

Lauren squealed into the phone, causing Edward to pull the earpiece away from his face. A small smile tugged at his lips. Planning a wedding might not seem like his idea of fun, but it made her happy.

"So summer 2011 is the date, then?" He wondered if he could cope with these phone calls for the next two years. For a moment he toyed with the idea of eloping.

"Yes. It's going to take that long to plan everything." She barely paused for breath. "Your mom wants to talk to you."

Lauren whispered something to Elizabeth, and then handed her the phone. In the next moment he heard his mother's voice.

"Edward, are you still joining Lauren and me for dinner tonight, I've made reservations at Spagos?"

He glanced at his watch, and then back at the conference room, where he could see through the glass door, discussions about Buzz Media were still on-going.

"I've got to work late. I need to go and check on one of our offices, there's a company I'm not totally happy with."

"Oh, darling, Lauren is going to be so disappointed," Elizabeth chided, although Edward knew his mother was really the disappointed one. "She leaves for Europe tomorrow; don't you want to spend your last night together?"

"Lauren will understand, and I'll see her when I get home tonight," he replied curtly. "I'm in the middle of a meeting. I'll speak to you soon."

He allowed Elizabeth enough time to splutter out a reply before he switched the handset off and gave to Heidi, who was watching him with an amused expression.

"I don't know what you're laughing about," he teased her, "you know as well as I do we're both going to be immersed in the hell Lauren and my mother are about to unleash."

"I'm not sure you're supposed to describe your future wedding in such a way," Heidi remarked pointedly, "and unlike you, once the wedding's over, I'll be able to put my feet up. Your work will only have begun."

. . .

It had taken a few phone calls, but he'd managed to glean some more information about Buzz Media, and their New York office. The company had been prospering despite the recession, mostly due to their ability to create an interesting website with a limited budget, and the expansion in the US was generally seen as a good move for them.

This was the sort of crap Edward never got involved in. The transactional value was way too low for him to show more than a cursory interest, and all indications showed the company was sound.

Which was why he was almost shocked to find himself sitting in the back of his car, on the way to Tower 6, to see why Isabella Swan was working in Manhattan. Such an impulsive move went against his usual modus operandi, but he found himself almost itching with the need to find out what was going on. For the first time in a long while he was almost excited. It was a good feeling.

Jack pulled the car up outside the office block in midtown, and Edward asked him to wait, not planning for this meeting to take very long. He wanted a few answers—felt he deserved them—before he could go back to his work, his fiancée and his plans for the future.

His best laid plans.

Black Enterprises owned the whole tower, and most of the units were let on long term agreements. Edward rarely had to visit the building, and he'd only spent more than a few minutes in the penthouse, which was rented by a long standing, important client of theirs.

The unit let to Buzz Media was on the third floor, and had an uninspiring view. It was one of their cheaper offices, and Edward wasn't surprised by the low-budget fittings and cheerful colors that greeted him as he stepped out of the elevator.

Buzz's newly hired receptionist took her job seriously, taking a long look at Edward's security pass before allowing him through the door. He found it amusing that she had no idea who he was, and part of him was already congratulating Bella for her choice of staff.

"Miss Swan's office is through the second door on the left. I'll give her a call and let her know you're here," she finally said, letting go of his pass and allowing him to place it back in his pocket. Edward leaned forward, noting the receptionist's name on her own pass.

"No need, I'm an old friend. I want to surprise her, Lisa." His voice was low and confident, and he always found using the receptionist's name got him what he wanted.

Lisa didn't reply for a moment, then realizing he was waiting expectantly, she finally opened her mouth. "Please go through, Mr Cullen, I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you."

Edward walked around the corner and pushed open the door, smiling as he heard music pumping through an iPod dock in the corner of the room. Bella was standing with her back toward him, leaning over a catalogue, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

His fingers twitched with the tactile memory of those silky locks between them. Trying to ignore his own reaction, he loudly cleared his throat, causing Bella's head to shoot up, and her body to whip around.

For a moment she stood and stared, and he waited for her to respond. He wasn't sure whether he was expecting a warm welcome or an angry tirade, but he was taken aback when a grin slowly spread across her lips.

"Oh my goodness, you shocked me." Bella's eyes glistened. She placed a hand on her chest, as if to calm her racing heart.

"I didn't mean to," his voice was lower than he'd expected, and he cleared his throat again. "I can come back later—"

"Goodness, no." She walked around her desk and over to him, stopping when she was a few feet away. Sometime in the past few years, their personal boundaries had been redefined. "I wasn't expecting anybody. It's lovely to see you."

"You too." And it really was. He marvelled at the way she still looked the same, her soft creamy skin highlighted by her flushed cheekbones, her dark brown eyes looking so alive. She was the girl he had first met all those years ago. He tore his gaze away from her face and tried to remind himself he was angry with her. It was difficult when she was looking so damned enchanted to see him.

"So what brings you here? Did Esme tell you I was in New York?"

"No, you happen to be renting office space owned by Black Enterprises. I wanted to come and check you out." He suppressed a grin at the meaning of his words. "You, as in Buzz Media, not you as in Bella Swan."

Bella laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear, and sat down on the front corner of her desk. "Are we going to pass muster?"

"I don't know yet. Why don't you tell me why you're here?" His tone was nonchalant, but he was beyond interested to hear more. He pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning forward, keen to hear her response.

"I was conned," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "Kate cajoled me until I agreed to come out and set up the New York office. Nobody else was available. They're all having babies or completely loved up, and I was the only one with dual nationality. Before I'd even had time to think, I was walking through the baggage reclaim area, wondering how the hell I got here."

Edward smothered a grin at the thought of Bella standing in the middle of JFK, realizing somehow she had moved to New York despite her best efforts to never do so.

And a part of him felt the irony of it all.

"Where are you living?" The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he even thought about them.

Bella started to swing her leg, drawing his eyes to her short skirt, leading to the long smooth skin of her thighs. "I'm squatting at Carlisle and Esme's apartment. I think I might be bringing down the tone of the neighbourhood."

"Too many drugs and parties?" Edward joked, trying to look anywhere but at her legs. He wished she'd stop swinging them. It was so distracting.

"Not enough manicures and haircuts." They both glanced at Bella's torn nails, before she moved her hands behind her, trying to hide them from his scrutiny. "And apparently sneakers aren't the appropriate footwear for a lady over the age of twenty."

"Have you been talking to Irina?" He asked, remembering the way Bella's stepmother used to criticise everything about her.

"God, no. I've been trying to stay away from her as much as possible. It helps that my sisters are away at college, and my dad still likes to meet me in diners."

"How is Charles?" Edward could still remember the first time he met her dad, all those years ago, before taking Bella out to eat. Back then she couldn't even drink legally, and now here they were, both running their own businesses, talking like two old friends. He tried to remind himself he was angry with her, but the emotion was dissipating like smoke into the atmosphere.

"Same old Charles Swan," Bella replied with a wry smile. "We have an understanding of sorts. I guess I cling to him because he's all I have left."

Her words were like cold water to his face, and he couldn't think of anything to say. The silence unnerved them both, and Bella was the first to break it.

"Oh how rude of me, I forgot to ask after Lauren. How is she?"

"She's good, going nuts planning the wedding. I'm hoping she won't turn into a bridezilla." He looked closely at Bella's face to gauge her reaction, but she remained placid and open, her lips curled as she returned his gaze.

"It's the moment every girl dreams about, I'm sure she's allowed to be a primadonna about it." Bella's voice was quieter now, and he began to wonder if she was putting on a façade. Or was he kidding himself?

"Do you dream about it?" As soon as the words escaped his mouth he wanted to take them back. He watched Bella's face fall and her brows dip.

"I don't allow myself to dream, Edward. I'm trying to stay in the here and now."

The urge to gather her in his arms and pull her against him was gut-wrenchingly strong. She was such a mix of the girl he knew before, and the one he glimpsed after her mother's death. Her sudden vulnerability made him feel almost angry, and like a caveman, he wanted to drag her away and hide her from the world.

"How long are you planning to stay?" He tried to keep his voice light.

"At least five more months. There's so much to set up, and I still haven't recruited the right person to run the place yet."

"Have you found a good agency? I know a few I can recommend if you need some help." Edward relaxed. Talking about work made him feel on stronger ground.

"They seem to know what they're doing. It's a tricky one, we may be asking for too much experience, with the salary we're offering."

"Give my head of HR a call. She might be able to talk you through some strategies." Edward pulled his cell from his pocket and scribbled down a number on a piece of paper, holding it out for Bella to take. She smiled at him before hesitantly reaching her hand out and placing her fingers on his.

The instant their skin touched, she pulled back, as if she was burned, leaving a corner of torn paper in his outstretched fingers.

"I'm sorry," pulling her lip between her teeth, she looked down at the ground. "I'm a little jittery."

"It's okay. I guess I'd better go anyway. It was lovely to see you again."

"You too. Thanks for dropping by."

She was staring right back at him, and it seemed like they couldn't drag their eyes away. Bella's music continued to play in the background—probably some obscure band he had never heard of—but Edward could still hear his own heart beating loudly above the melody.

He didn't want to leave, but couldn't think of any reason to stay. He stood up, towering over her as she remained perched on the edge of her desk, and his hands burned with the need to feel her skin. It took every ounce of strength he had not to lean forward and touch her. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and it reassured him to know she was feeling this as much as he was.

Part of him hoped it hurt her as much as It did him.

"Would you like to join me for dinner next week?" It was like the words came from nowhere, but he couldn't regret saying them; his whole body tingled at the thought of seeing her again. "It would be great to catch up."

"Maybe we could go watch a band?" Bella suggested, and he wondered if she was avoiding being alone with him. "It could be like old times."

"I'll let you choose." He needed to get out of there now, before he did something he would regret. He scribbled his cell number on a second piece of paper, wondering if she still remembered it, as he'd kept the same one all these years. Passing it to her, he kept his fingers well away from hers, knowing neither of them could take the shock of contact again.

She took the scrap and kept it folded in her palm, sitting still as a statue. The awkwardness between them hung like fog in the air, and it was only when the music stopped that Edward found the will to move.

Leaving her with a simple goodbye, he strode back through the corridor, feeling grateful the elevator took only a few moments to arrive. Walking inside, he leaned his fevered head against the cool mirror, trying not to look himself in the eye as he wondered exactly what the hell he was doing.

Because to all intents and purposes, it seemed like he was about to fuck up his life.

Again.

* * *

**A/N Thank you for all your reviews for the last chapter - they blew me away. There were a few questions that I haven't got around to answering, mostly wondering how long until the prologue. At this moment I anticipate it being around chapter 32, but don't take this as gospel, because these two like to muck me around. **

**If you have any questions that I don't answer, come join me on facebook - I'm usually hanging out in the group and try to answer any questions there! Links are on my profile page.**

**All the love to SunflowerFran, she's such a supportive Beta and I love her lots. Sparrow and CutestKids pre-read. Love them too!**

**Next chapter will be up this week.**

**Choc xx**


	28. Chapter 27

**Fix You Chapter 27**

**March 2009**

"What is wrong with you?" Bella scolded her reflection in the mirror like she was talking to a real person. A foolish daydreamer, setting herself up for a fall. The girl in the glass stared back with matching contempt, her lips pulled back into a frown, her eyes staring daggers through the glass.

She was vocalizing a debate which had been raging in her mind all afternoon. Bella had known as soon as she moved to New York there was a possibility of meeting Edward again, of seeing him with his fiancé, but she'd been careful to move in different circles, turning down the unwanted party invitations. She preferred to hang around at clubs and music venues, when she wasn't lying in bed, alone.

She was becoming an expert at avoidance. Of people, of company. Of life.

Despite her best efforts, not only had Bella seen him again, but she'd agreed to go out with him—just the two of them—and she'd have to make small talk for the entire night. It was like opening up an old wound, then rubbing sandpaper all over it. The long-repressed memories were rising to the surface of her mind, and the rawness of her emotions made her nerves jangle.

Could they really be friends again? The question played on her thoughts as she pulled on her jacket, checking her face in the mirror next to her front door. More than ever, she wished she were a mind-reader, so she could understand why Edward had come over to her office. The last time she'd seen him he'd been frustrated and angry—enough to break a mirror—but this time he'd seemed different, more like his old self.

It made her want him all the more.

"He's taken, you loser." God, was she going to talk to herself in every mirror she passed? She'd have to avoid them at all costs while she was out with Edward; otherwise he'd every right to get her committed. She shook her head, watching her reflection mimic the movement, and turned to pull the handle of her front door.

The Cherry Blossom Café was only a few blocks from her apartment. Bella had chosen it because she knew the owners, and loved the laidback atmosphere they created in the evening. In the basement they held performances each night. Sometimes a band would play, other nights there would be poetry recitals, or even small one-off plays. You never knew what you were going to get, you just turned up, ordered your food, and hoped for the best.

The fact they would have something to distract them from the need to make small-talk, played a big part in her choice. She was afraid of the intimacy of a sophisticated dinner-for-two, but was equally wary about the heated adrenaline of a gig. The Café was the best of both worlds, there would be a table between them, but they wouldn't feel alone.

Bella could feel the early evening air ruddying her cheeks, as she eschewed the lit up taxis, and instead chose to walk to the café. Pulling her wool coat around her, she found herself shivering against the cold air. Maybe she should have taken him up on his offer of a lift, although to have him pick her up at the apartment seemed too intimate, too much of a date for her sensibilities. She was constantly talking herself out of her feelings, and down from her emotions. To have even the illusion of a relationship with him would only add fuel to her already desperate fire.

Night had fallen hard in Manhattan, and by the time she reached the Café, smoky darkness clung to the streets like glue. The hand-painted sign was illuminated by orange down lighters, a board to the side advertising the evening's entertainment. As she read the words, a hiccup of a laugh escaped her lips, and she wondered whether Edward would be enchanted by The Performance Poetry Duet.

She suspected not.

Bella had loved this place since the first time she'd stepped inside, a few months before. Alone, and slightly nervous, she'd aimlessly wandered the streets near her apartment, and as soon as she pushed the door open, it had felt like home. The dark-blue matte-painted walls, and the battered wooden floor offered a level of unpretentiousness she'd valued, and the warm welcome of Richard and his wife, Elaine, had only added to her comfort.

In the evenings, it was more bistro than cafe. Each table held an eclectic mix of flickering candles, and the lights strung across the ceiling were colored and muted, resulting in an ambiance of warmth and relaxation. It was like walking in to your own house after a hard day at work, and being able to kick off your shoes and put your feet up.

Maybe this was why she felt relaxed and a little excited when she opened the door. Walking in, she waved at Elaine who was taking orders from a large group in the corner, her black hair piled high on her head, and her sixties-style geometric print dress complementing her curvy figure. Elaine pointed over at a table at the back, a few feet away from the performance stage, and Bella tried not to laugh when she realised they'd have the prime position for watching poetry. She hoped Edward was ready for it.

The table was empty, and the thought she'd arrived before him buoyed her up, so she wasn't even feeling nervous anymore. They were two old friends, meeting for dinner and a chat, and she was totally up for that.

And then she saw him.

Blood like acid shot through her veins, her heart hammering against the cage of her chest, making want and need pierce her body like sharp icicles. She stared in appreciation as he leaned on the bar, his face in profile to her, the flickering of candles lending his skin a warm hue. Her eyes traced his jawline from his ear to chin, appreciating the sharpness of his bone structure, and the way his dark stubble defined it. He was leaning in, talking to Richard, who was handing him a bottle of beer, and even from this distance she could see the way he was smiling crookedly, the pull of the skin surrounding his eyes telling her it was genuine.

As he picked his beer up, Edward turned toward her, and she noticed he was wearing dark trousers, with a white shirt tucked in. She thought maybe he had come straight from the office, deciding to remove his tie and roll up his sleeves as a concession to the casualness of the evening. He'd undone two or three buttons on his shirt, exposing a few inches of chest, and as she saw the fine dusting of hair curling against his skin, she wondered if they were the same ones she used to feel against her when she kissed him. Or had he shucked that hair, like a shedding animal, and grown new, fresh strands; cells with no memory of her touch, or her kisses? Nor the way she loved him.

Could he have thrown off the way he felt about her as easily as a snake sheds its skin?

"Are you ready to be seated, Bella?" Elaine's voice in Bella's ear shocked her back to the present.

She swallowed down the memories and turned with a smile. "Yeah, looks like my guest's arrived." She motioned in the direction of the bar. "I guess I'd better go say hi."

"If you don't I will," Elaine joked, her eyes warm as she looked over his body. Bella felt a flash of jealousy hit her stomach, even though Elaine was her friend. Maybe she should run to the bathroom and find a mirror, so she could give herself another talk. He wasn't hers to feel territorial about.

"He's taken, I'm afraid." _And not by me._

"What a shame." Elaine winked, before turning to take another order. "Go get seated and I'll bring you a drink. Sancerre?"

"Sounds great."

As she approached the bar, Edward noticed her, pushing himself up from the stool to stand. The sleeves of his shirt were slightly crumpled, and she couldn't help but look at the way his forearms emerged from the rolled up cuffs, all warm skin and golden hair, the lines of his tendons firm and clear.

Memories of rough hands and soft lips assaulted her mind, as she inhaled his aroma. Just one step further and her face would be against his chest. She had to scrape her scant nails against her palms to stop herself from doing it.

"Can I get you a drink?" Edward asked, bending down to kiss her on the cheek. It was barely a second of contact, but it was enough to make her feel like she was on fire.

This was such a bad idea.

Why had she ever thought she could handle this? Bella had seen it as a chance to redeem herself, a way to apologise to him for her disappearing act, to wish him well for his future with Lauren. But instead she was transported back in time, to those golden few months when their lust had exploded, before her mother's illness had ripped her heart in two.

"Elaine's bringing me one over. Shall we sit down?" She managed to keep her voice nice and even. Perhaps if she played the part of a friend, her mind would eventually catch up.

They walked to the table, Bella leading the way, and without him in her eye line she managed to regain a little equilibrium. It lasted for all of two seconds, until they were seated at the small bistro table, the warm glow of the candle reflecting off their faces.

She'd miscalculated so badly. Why did she bring him to such an intimate location, where she had to sit only a couple of feet away from him, staring into his deep green eyes? Or was it their connection which made everything so close and personal, would she be feeling this way if they were opposite each other at McDonalds?

She feared she would.

Edward cleared his throat, and she felt her cheeks become inflamed. He must think she was a fool, staring at him, unable to string a sentence of words together. She'd have to try harder.

"I don't think I've ever been here before," he admitted, lifting the paper menu from the table and glancing at it. "It seems a nice place, though."

"I thought you must know it, since it's only a few blocks from your dad's apartment."

Edward shrugged, taking a sip of his beer before glancing up from the menu. "I guess we must have missed this one. Do they do breakfast?"

"I guess so. I don't really eat before lunch, so I've never really asked."

"I remember." He grinned wryly, and she thought her heart was going to stop.

Bella's silence, like her demeanor, was awkward. As hard as she was trying to push him out of her heart, with every word he spoke, and every move he made, he was bricking himself in. It hurt to look at him.

"I never really got to apologize to you," she babbled, trying to find a way to fill their empty conversation. "When I went to Australia."

His smile dropped. He placed the menu carefully back down on the table, smoothing the wrinkles with his palm, then looked back up at her, his face a picture of calm. "You want to talk about that?"

She nodded her head. Even if they never saw each other again—and with her stupidity and faux pas it was a distinct possibility—she wanted to offer him the one thing she had left.

Her regret.

"I want you to know I appreciate everything you did for me. When mum was so ill, you were the only one who kept me going. I know they say you hurt the ones who love you most, but it's no excuse for me upping and leaving." She ran her fingers nervously around her wine glass, smoothing out the beads of condensation. "If it's any consolation, and I'm sure it isn't, I pretty much want to kick my own ass for what I did."

His responding laugh was light. "I'm not sure I come out of this with a gold medal. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for the way I treated you at Emmett's wedding. I don't usually get violent in bathrooms."

A brief vision, of a tiled floor covered with glass, ran through her consciousness. "I think I pretty much deserved that too."

"You're being a little hard on yourself; I've come to terms with it all. What's done is done, and hopefully we've both come out of it a little wiser."

His magnanimity cut her to the quick. Either he was truly over it, in which case she should be happy he'd moved on, or he was a damn fine actor. She didn't like either option—the first made her feel disposed of, and the second like she had some false hope. She wanted a third, easier alternative, but couldn't for the life of her think what it would be.

Elaine came over to take their orders, giving Bella her glass of white wine. She took it with a smile, hardly pausing before taking a huge gulp, enjoying the taste of the cold liquid as it swirled on her tongue.

Edward cleared his throat. "Tell me about Australia."

She appreciated his attempt to change the subject, deciding to take the proffered olive branch. "It seems such a strange time, like remembering a Christmas when you were a small child. When I look back, it's like I'm seeing someone else, a different me, who took over my life for a while." She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe I have multiple personality disorder or something."

"Did you keep in touch with anybody?" His words were light, but she glanced up to see if his eyes were giving anything away. They weren't.

"Alice, of course, and I had to keep in contact with Marcus and Kate for work reasons. I met up with Jasper and the band once, when they played in Sydney, but that was a clusterfuck. I ended up getting drunk and crying all night, and they were too scared to let me go home. They thought I might do something stupid."

Something flashed in Edward's eyes, and she tried to define it, wondering if it was a trick of the candlelight. Taking a sip of the wine Elaine had given her, she continued. "It took me a while to realize you can't outrun depression, and eventually I knew I needed to go home. I was putting off the inevitable, and actually there's a certain comfort in being with the ones you love."

She glanced at him nervously, embarrassed at her own words, knowing he must be thinking them through as much as she was. He held her stare for a moment too long, his face as flushed as hers, before picking up his beer as a diversionary measure.

Sensing his discomfort, she changed the subject. "So tell me about Lauren, she seems like a lovely girl."

"She is." He agreed, the tenseness of his facial muscles belying his unease. "We met at an art exhibition—she works in a gallery—and I guess we hit it off."

"I bet Elizabeth loves her." Bella drawled, trying to coax a smile from him.

He nodded amiably, a smile flashing across his mouth. "They appear to share the same taste in wedding venues at least."

Another stab to the heart, but perversely it felt good. Like a monk flaying himself for his sins, she soaked up the pain. "Have you set a date?"

He shrugged, his face turning serious again. She wondered why the smile had disappeared. "We're looking at 2011, just need to firm up a venue."

As Elaine brought over their main courses, he changed the subject again, explaining how the recent economic downturn had impacted Black Enterprises, and their attempts to shore up their income stream. She asked him about Jacob, and tried not to let him see the tears forming when he explained about the buy-out, and Jacob's recent difficulties. Edward was a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and she hoped Lauren was doing what she had never managed to, and was helping to shoulder some of the burden.

Bella wished she was the one to do that for him, to fix him the way he had tried to fix her. She wondered if she could do this as a friend, be there to listen when he wanted to talk, to lend him a friendly ear when he needed to confide. She really thought she could, and the notion made her feel warm inside, from the belly up.

Whether it was the impact of the alcohol, or the relief of unburdening their regrets, the atmosphere between them had loosened by the time the performance started. Elaine had cleared the table, leaving their drinks, and Edward moved his chair around to sit beside Bella, so he could get a better view of the stage. The fabric of his shirt brushed her bare arm, and she didn't know whether to stay put, or pull away.

His closeness unnerved her.

"If they try to pull me up and recite poetry or something, I expect you to save me, okay?" he whispered in her ear, making her lips pull up in amusement.

"I'm so going to volunteer you," she grinned at him wickedly. "Jesus, I can't wait to hear your poem about the economic downturn."

"I imagine it would be something like…'oh hedge fund of mine, you led to the subprime, we thought derivatives were it, but landed us in the …"

"Hush." She hit him lightly on the arm, pulling her hand back in embarrassment. "I swear I'm going to bring you to open mike night if you don't behave."

"You started it." His voice turned to a whisper as a woman swept up onto the stage, her dark flowing skirt creating a dramatic entrance as it flared out behind her.

They were silent as she began her recitation; her dramatic words accompanied by an over-enthusiastic steel drummer. She showed no stage fright or embarrassment at all, and though Bella had little interest in poetry—despite having a degree in literature—she couldn't help but be impressed by the way the poet threw herself into it. Even Edward managed to keep fairly still, only having to hide his amusement with a cough a couple of times. Bella swallowed the impulse to poke him in the ribs.

He was sitting so close to her; it felt unnatural to hold herself so still. As if they were still together, her body wanted to lean to the right, put her head on his shoulder and her palm in his. His thigh was barely an inch away from her own, and she kept glancing at the hand he had resting lightly against it, willing it to move until he was touching her skin.

Was he feeling the pull as strongly as she was?

Bella wanted to slap herself for even thinking it. He was engaged to somebody else, and he wasn't hers to lean against.

It didn't stop her body from wanting, though, and her back started to ache with the effort it took to maintain her rigid pose. In her mind she could picture exactly how her cheek would feel, leaning against his chest, soaking up the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt. She ached to feel the rhythmic movement of his ribcage as he exhaled, and the reassuring sound of his heart beating against her ear. She felt more than a little thankful when the performance was over.

It was a Wednesday night, and they both had work the next morning, so she'd accepted his offer of a lift home without over-thinking it. As soon as she sat on the back seat—as far away from Edward's distracting body as possible—she let the relief bathe her body. Despite the way she felt about him, she had somehow managed to get through the evening without making a fool of herself. She'd apologized, and explained, and they'd even managed to laugh a little. And when they pulled up outside her apartment, and he opened the door and climbed out, she let him take her hand and help her onto the sidewalk. Her breath may have stuttered a little—though not enough for him to notice—but otherwise she managed to remain cool, calm and collected.

Maybe they could do the friendship thing without it all exploding in their faces again. She hoped so, because to have him back in her life, whatever the form of their relationship, was worth the pain of seeing him move on.

As he leaned down to brush his lips against her cheek, she closed her eyes, savouring the moment and the proximity of his body.

"It's been such a nice evening," he murmured against her skin, the movement of his lips causing a pulse of pleasure to rush to her nerve endings. "Can we do this again sometime?"

"I'd love to." She nodded enthusiastically, before impulsively pulling him toward her, hugging him tightly in an effort to show him how happy she was. Edward wrapped his arms around her in response, and she felt his biceps tense as he pulled her tighter still. Her body melted against him, and for a moment she let herself be held.

And God it felt good. They were embracing as friends, and she knew there was nowhere else for them to go, but she'd take it anyway. Because to have him in her life, regardless of what form it took, was infinitely better than losing him again.

* * *

**A/N Sunflowerfran betas, Sparrownotes24 and Cutestkidsmom preread.**

**Thank you for all your reviews, I love reading them. I've been a total fail at responding, but I always post teasers on the Fictionators dot com on a Monday, and in my facebook group (link on my profile)**

**I hope you all have a great week. Next chapter will be up on Saturday.  
**

**Choc xx**


	29. Chapter 28

**Fix You Chapter 28**

**28****th**** August 2009**

He'd arrived later than planned. His morning meeting had stretched into lunchtime, no matter how hard he tried to speed it up, and the two-hour journey to the campsite put him on edge. Even Jack had raised his eyes in the rear view mirror when Edward had suggested he increase his speed. He wasn't usually such a backseat driver.

It was gone four by the time they pulled into the graveled parking lot, Jack swerving the car to avoid potholes, before finding a space on the far side, near the lodge. Edward had to pause a moment to rearrange his features, reminding himself that it was all going smoothly.

Because this really mattered to him. Out of all the charitable efforts the William J Black Memorial Foundation supported, Camp William was the one that touched Edward's heart. It wasn't about glitzy clothes, or seeing and being seen. It was about the kids, the offspring of those who had died, and those who had barely survived. For six years, he'd watched them grow, some of them turning from young children into angry teenagers who couldn't understand their place in the world. Others were maturing into amazing men and women who returned as counsellors. They had a special place in his heart.

The foundation had bought the abandoned campground in 2002, spending the first year rebuilding the cabins, making the area safe and clearing out the long-abandoned lake. By 2003 they were able to hold their first series of camps, offering them to the children of 9/11 free of charge. For some of the kids it was their only chance to escape the introverted air of the city, for others it was their one opportunity to act their age. The only difference between Camp William and other, less specific camps was that they employed a number of therapists to help the children open up and discuss their bereavement in a safe environment.

"Edward, you made it!" Alice ran over and hugged him tightly, a beaming smile plastered across her face. "Can you hear the music? Everybody's raving about it."

The concert was a new addition this year. Back in March, during a visit to 'The Buzz's' New York office, he'd confided in Bella that some of the teenagers were sick of the usual camp fare. They'd been through six years of canoeing, climbing and swimming, and Edward wanted to offer them something different. He couldn't for the life of him think what that would be.

She'd surprised him by suggesting a teen-only music camp, offering to organize the activities and participants herself. Five months later, Bella had managed to call in enough favors to put on a full scale concert on the final day, as well as various workshops throughout the week. She'd even taken a week's leave from work to be able to run the camp.

His only regret was that work had kept him in the city until today.

"It sounds great." Edward hugged his sister, trying not to chide her for her short mini-skirt and tank combination. It was over eighty-degrees, after all, and she was twenty years old now.

Taking her proffered hand, they walked over to the crowd of teens gathered on the lawn in front of a full-scale festival stage. He had to hand it to Bella; on a budget of virtually zero, she'd somehow managed to create an atmosphere that rivalled some of the best festivals of the summer. His eyes roamed the crowd, trying to check if she was around, but all he could see was the happy faces of the kids, as they danced in time to the band.

"Is Lauren not coming?" Alice asked, unaware she was hitting a sore point. Edward bit his lip, remembering their heated discussion before she left for the Hamptons. He wished she'd changed her mind about joining Elizabeth there and had come to the concert instead.

"She's away." His reply was curt, but he offered Alice a smile to soften the blow.

Alice smiled back, but her eyes didn't join in. "That's a shame; she's going to miss a great show."

He tried not to laugh. He loved Alice dearly, and was amazed by the way she always saw the best in people. But the fact was Lauren and his mother only seemed interested in the William J Black Memorial Foundation when it involved dressing up and attending galas. It irked him.

"I'll make sure to show her some pictures." They'd reached the main stage, and Alice dug into her back pocket, passing him a damp, crumpled backstage pass. Edward hooked it around his neck without comment, not wanting to drag the happy look from her face.

"Have you had a good time?" he asked her. Alice's face lit up as she remembered the past few days. It was the first year she'd attended as a counsellor and she positively glowed at the trust he'd put in her. He was pleased he'd listened to Bella when she suggested he give Alice a call.

"Oh my God, it's been amazing. The kids are fantastic, and Bella's let me be involved in all the organization. She hasn't stopped running around, and when she's not sorting out the bands she's been sitting with the kids, or playing softball with them. She insists on calling it rounders and swinging with one arm." Alice scrunched her nose up at the memory. "She couldn't hit a ball if her life depended on it."

An image of her trying to strike a ball made him curl his nose up with amusement. There were many things that Bella Swan was good at, but sporting pursuits weren't one of them.

He wasn't sure how he knew she was near. Maybe he saw something from the corner of his eye, or perhaps the hair on his skin stood on end at her closeness. Either way, when he heard the familiar cadence of her laughter, he swung around and saw her in all her beautiful glory.

Bella was chatting animatedly with a counselor, flinging her arms around and grinning wildly. Every movement was exaggerated, and her vibrancy made him want to run over and sweep her up in his arms.

Like Alice, she was dressed for the steaming hot weather. Short denim cut-offs curved over her behind, and she'd knotted a sleeveless black band t shirt over her navel, revealing a sliver of tanned stomach. Even from here he could see she'd caught the sun, the smooth glow of her skin, and the freckles covering her nose a testament to a week spent in the great outdoors.

"Who is Bella talking to?" Edward asked his sister, a frown creeping across his face. The guy leaned in and tugged a lock of hair that had escaped from Bella's messy bun.

Alice peered over at the two of them. "That's Mike Newton. He used to be a camper, but this is his first year as a counselor. He's been following her around like a bad smell all week."

Edward couldn't quite place the strange feeling at the pit of his stomach. It reminded him of worry, or a nagging fear, and he wondered why a twenty-year old guy like Mike would cause him to react that way. He didn't like it when Mike played with Bella's hair, his only source of relief being Bella's immediate withdrawal, and the concerned expression on her face.

"The guy really can't take a hint," Alice murmured, glancing at her brother with a frown. "I swear she's told him fifty times she's not interested, but he just doesn't seem to hear her."

That was all Edward needed to hear. With a muttered "come on," to his sister, he walked straight towards the two of them, noting with pleasure that when Bella lifted her head up to see him, an unguarded smile spread across her lips.

"You made it!" With the sun reflecting off her tanned skin, and the way her cheeks glowed, it was all he could do not to sweep her off her feet. "What do you think?"

"You've done a fantastic job. The director keeps calling me up and asking if you can do the same thing next year."

Bella laughed. It was a throaty, sexy chuckle which made his body ache. "You know, I'd love to. I'm so amazed by the kids, they're all so brave." Her smile wavered slightly, and he knew she was thinking about her own loss. Knowing her as he did, she was probably comparing herself to them and coming up short.

"I don't know how to thank you for what you've done." He ached with the need to hug her. But since their reconciliation they'd kept each other at arm's length, as if they were both aware that to step into the murky waters of physical contact would break down the delicate dam they'd created.

"I couldn't have done it without Alice." Bella hugged his sister against her side, and for a moment he felt a pang of jealousy. "She's been like my right hand man. I'm thinking of offering her the job of manager in our New York office." Her tone was light and teasing, but for a moment all he wanted to do was shout 'no!'

The fortunate side effect of her failure to recruit a suitable candidate to run the office was that she had stayed in Manhattan longer than she had originally planned. He wasn't sure how much effort she was putting into the search any more, but if he had his way, she'd be cancelling the contracts with the agency and agreeing to stay out here full time.

He liked having her around. She was easy to talk to, and bounce ideas off. She was the first person he wanted to call when he was having a bad day, or a good one, come to that, and he knew that they both needed to keep their relationship on this side of respectable. He was pretty proud they'd balanced things so far. She was his friend—probably his best friend—and it made him happy to have her near.

"I've got to go and sort out the next band," she smiled at him, and he could feel a little flutter in his heart. "I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

"Sure," he agreed easily, knowing he needed to circulate and catch up with the kids. "I'll try and grab you before the fireworks."

. . .

Bella was talking to a group of donors when the final band finished, looking incongruous in her festival clothing amongst the linen dresses and smart suits. It didn't seem to faze her, as she answered questions and accepted their compliments, and Edward wondered if she was finally getting over her inferiority complex.

He stood and watched for a while, liking the fact that she didn't know he was staring. Lauren had once described her as 'zany', which was as good a description as any, though it probably had the opposite effect to the one Lauren was hoping to create. Bella's quirkiness endeared her to him, and in the same way he felt the need to shield his sister from the cruel, vicious world, he also wanted to gather Bella up and protect her.

The years away from her seemed to have slipped away like sands between his fingers. They were back to the Bella and Edward of old; two friends who delighted in winding each other up, knocking each other down, and then standing up and dusting themselves off. But there was something else—a thing so small and tenuous he could hardly put his finger on it—which made him think this wasn't the end game. It was the same feeling he got when waiting for a deal to come through, or when sitting in an airport departure lounge. It was a necessary part of the journey, but wasn't the final destination.

Maybe he was just jittery about the wedding. Even with more than a year to go, Lauren was ramping things up, spending weekends with the organizer, trying to coax him out to try different caterers and bakeries. There were only so many excuses he could make before he found himself trailing her around, trying to conjure up an ounce of enthusiasm for chair covers. He wished she'd just organize it all and let him turn up on the day. Everything else was just details.

"There's absolutely no way I'm making a speech." Bella's voice rang clearly through the night air now the music had stopped. His lips twitched at the thought of her standing up, her tiny body dwarfed by the main stage, and stuttering her way through a list of thank yous. She wasn't the type to enjoy the spotlight. Hell, he still hadn't managed to get her to join his table at the next gala, but if work involved scurrying around and sorting out last minute snafus, she was your girl.

"You deserve the accolades," Mimi Newton, a wealthy donor, and 9/11 widow, was telling her. "My son tells me you managed to get so many great bands organized."

Bella coughed out a laugh. "I think Mike may be a little biased." Edward didn't have to look to know she was blushing. "But thank you, anyway. And Mike's been fantastic; he's made an excellent counselor, and the teenagers have really bonded with him." Bella leaned in to whisper loudly in Mimi's ears. "Especially the girls."

There was a certain pleasure in hearing Bella group Mike in with a bunch of teenage girls. Though she was twenty-six, it was like time hadn't really touched her. She still looked at least five years younger—something she had in common with Lauren.

Tired of being a spectator, he walked towards the group, his presence drawing their eyes away from Bella. Keeping half an eye on her, he spoke with the donors, smiling and thanking them for their help. He knew most of them well—from their links with the foundation, as well as bumping into them at other events, and it was hard to keep their exchanges to pleasantries. They were his friends.

Bella finished talking with Mimi Newton, and then glanced over at the rest of the donors. "I think the fireworks are about to start. I've arranged for some drinks to be served just outside the donors' tent."

Her words were greeted with pleasant murmurs of agreement. Within moments, the lure of champagne and canapés had cleared the group, and he watched their back as they walked over towards the white canvas tent.

And then there were two.

"Hey." Bella was rubbing at her arms, and he could see the goose bumps lifting at her skin. The evening air was still warm, but her clothes weren't appropriate for sundown.

He wished he was wearing his jacket, just so he could drape it over her shoulders, but he'd left it on the backseat of his car, along with his tie. "You look cold."

"It's the absence of body heat," she joked. "I've been okay as long as I've been in a group of people. I'm like the poor kid stealing next door's milk from the stoop."

"Or maybe encouraging the redistribution of heat?" he suggested. "They're giving it off, so you're kind of doing the environment a favor by soaking it up. You may be responsible for preventing global warming."

She giggled, and his chest split open. "Wow, I never thought of it like that. What are you, the Karl Marx of environmental campaigners?"

Bella was shivering now. Not teeth clattering, full-on shudders, but her body was shaking enough to make him want to do something about it. He stood for a moment, reasoning with himself that if it was any other female friend, he wouldn't hesitate to pull closer and wrap his arms around them. Maybe run the palms of his hands over their skin until the shaking stopped.

She didn't seem like any other female friend, standing there in front of him, her face illuminated by the floodlights dotting the lawn. She looked like the Bella he used to know, the one who dribbled on him in parks, and flirted with him at parties. She looked like_ his_ Bella.

"Come here." It was a demand, not a request, and he didn't wait for her answer. Just one step forward and his arms were around her. He inhaled the fragrance of her shampoo as he gathered her against him.

Jesus she was cold. Her skin felt like ice to the touch, and he was kicking himself for not doing this earlier. It wasn't a sexual embrace at all. It was the gesture of one human to another, offering warmth and comfort.

That was his line, and he was sticking to it.

Bella opened her mouth to say something, but her voice was drowned out by the noise of the first firework exploding overhead. Purples and greens cascaded through the air, drawing a collective gasp from the crowds.

She was holding herself awkwardly in his arms. Like she was afraid to move, or put her arms around him, and it just made him hold her closer. She felt like a wild animal, curious enough to allow itself to be picked up, but nervous once in your arms. He willed Bella to let herself relax, let him warm her up, because right now she felt like a frozen icicle, all rigid in his arms.

When the second firework exploded, Bella lifted her head to watch, her features fixed in an expression of wonder. Maybe that was why he found her so much more fascinating to watch than the display of pyrotechnics overhead. The explosions were reflected in the brightness of her eyes, and that was enough for him.

"Did you arrange these too?" In a brief respite between sets, he found himself whispering in her ear.

"I know someone." Bella suppressed a smile, making him think she'd been using that phrase a lot this week. "When you mention kids and 9/11, it's amazing just how generous people can be."

She caught his eye for a moment, and it was enough to make him twitch. As her body warmed up, his need to protect her was being replaced by something stronger and more primal. Shit, this was a dangerous line he was treading. He wished that Lauren had come with him, though a small part of him was glad she didn't. He'd forgotten what it was like to be involved in a maelstrom of emotions, his heart beating faster and his blood racing. Was it preferable to the calm, reassuring certainty offered to him by Lauren? He wasn't sure.

"It's amazing how generous you've been." He cupped her cheek with his hand, causing a shock of surprise to flash across her face. "You've spent the last few months sorting this out, and I know you've given up so much of your free time, not to mention your vacation."

She was so still in his arms that he thought she might be in shock. He wondered if she was afraid, like he was, of breaching the dam they'd so carefully constructed. They'd both made separate deals with the devil, promising not to step over the invisible line if it allowed them to be in each other's lives. They'd made the mistake once before of trying to be lovers, and look how that turned out.

"I like being able to help . . ." Her voice was just a murmur, her words trailing off when the next round of fireworks started up. This time she didn't watch, just stared at him as her face reflected the colors of the explosions in the sky. She went from orange, to green, to red, and he licked his dry lips, trying to decide on his next move.

Letting go wasn't an option he considered.

"Bella," he murmured, so quietly she couldn't hear him. He wasn't sure he wanted her to. He dropped his forehead to touch hers, her eyes widening in fear when she saw the expression on his face. He thought of his wild animal analogy again. She was never going to be his, but it was enough to see her, watch her from afar, to ensure she was safe and happy.

And the occasional moment like this, when they were exposed and raw, was all that he could take. It seemed more intimate than kissing, or having sex. It was an all-encompassing connection. Christ, he loved her, but he also craved domestication, and that was something she could never give.

So why was it that he didn't want to set her free?

* * *

**A/N - Thanks to SunflowerFran and SparrowNotes24 for all their help.**

**And thank _you_ for reading and reviewing - I appreciate every single one of you. If you want to see photos / teasers, I post them in my FaceBook group - the link is on my profile. Fix You will be updated during the week, and I'll also put a teaser on Fictionators. See you then. Choc xx**


	30. Chapter 29

**Fix You Chapter 29**

**9th February 2010**

Bella wasn't sure how she'd ended up here; sitting in the corner of a dingy bar, pouring the dregs out of a bottle of wine. Her wine glass was well-used, marred by lipstick and finger marks, red droplets clinging to the rim. She nodded at the barman, to order another, figuring that she may as well end this day the way she had begun it.

In a complete state.

She hadn't even realized the significance of the date until she was in the subway, rocking on her tiptoes so her fingers could grasp the rail to prevent her flying into anybody else. The man next to her was reading the New York Times, folding it up into quarters so it didn't disturb anyone, and it was then that her eyes had flicked over the numbers on the corner of the page.

Had it really been five years? Christ, she knew that time flew the older you got, but to think that for five years she had been without Renee, lacking her warm arms and her unconditional love, was almost enough to break her heart all over again. The train had swung around a corner, forcing Bella into the shoulder of the person to her left, and she could feel her breath start to speed up. Harsh pants emerged from her lips in short, sharp bursts until her head felt light and fuzzy.

It had been years since she'd last had a panic attack, but she recognized the symptoms right away; racing heart, harsh breaths, the feeling that she was about to fall down and convulse on the dirty, dusty train floor. It seemed like the worst place in the world to have a seizure. It was all she could do to hang on to a thread of sanity before the train arrived at its next stop.

She didn't bother to look to see the station name, just ran out through the sliding doors and up the platform, panicking again when her card didn't open the barrier the first time. Her hands were shaking hard, the feeling of nausea bubbling away at the pit of her stomach, and she only cleared the exit by a couple of feet before she doubled over and pebbled the floor with the remnants of her breakfast.

The morning rush hour had carried on around her. People walking into the station entrance gave her a wide berth; assuming she was either inebriated from the night before, or was some sort of mad woman, muttering to herself as she leaned against the dirty brick wall of the subway station. She was a small inconvenience-probably forgotten by the time they'd stepped onto their train-a tiny speck in the myriad of eccentrics that populated the great city.

It was times like this that Bella wished she was still in London. She would have called up Kate, or Jasper, or maybe caught a cab to Esme's to throw herself into her arms. She would have been plied with sweet tea and hugs until she cried herself out and braced herself to face the day.

Instead, she was alienated in Manhattan, with a cell phone filled with numbers of work colleagues and acquaintances, but no friends that she could confide in, or ask for help. Nobody who would understand exactly why this day was so hard for her.

No one, except, perhaps, Edward.

No, she wasn't going there. Their fragile friendship relied upon polite distance, and regimented smiles. The few times they let themselves get close-like last year at Summer Camp-things became overcomplicated and hurtful, and she couldn't stand to see the confused look on his face.

As she wandered around the streets, Bella wondered if she should go home, maybe hole up in bed and call in sick to work. But the thought of a whole day spent indoors, mourning the passing of her mother, just made her want to cry more. She needed to be in the fresh air, among the hustle and bustle of the city. She didn't want to be maudlin.

The day passed faster than she'd thought possible. Breakfast in a diner, and hours spent browsing in a book shop were followed by an early dinner in the corner of a dingy bar in Soho. How she'd ended up there, she wasn't sure, but she felt more at home in this part of the island than anywhere else.

The past couple of hours had been spent drowning herself in a wine glass, and batting off advances of guys who thought she was easy game. Even in her inebriated state, the last thing she wanted to do was forget her mother with an easy lay.

And here she was, full circle, thinking about the last five years and how she'd royally fucked things up. She glanced at her watch, trying to work out, through the haze of alcohol, what the time would be in London, before realizing it was way too late to call up Esme or Alice. They'd both be tucked up safe and warm in bed.

That left one other number. She was dialling it before she'd even thought it through, like she'd left all common sense at the bottom of her empty wine bottle. Perhaps it had been taken away by the barman when he'd swiftly replaced it with a full one.

It only rang twice before she was connected. "Bella?" His voice was soft, and warm, with a hint of concern. It wasn't her normal habit to call him this late at night.

"Edward." She took another sip of wine. "I just wanted to call and say how sorry I am."

"Are you okay?"

She could hear a thrum of voices in the background. Bella bit her lip as she wondered if she had disturbed him, maybe taken him away from dinner with Lauren.

"The way I left you that day. I should never have walked out on you without explaining why. I've been thinking about it all day, and I—"

"Christ, I hadn't even realized the date." He sounded agitated now, and she could imagine him running his hand through his thick, coarse hair. "I'm so sorry."

She laughed harshly. "I really shouldn't have called. I know you're with Lauren now, and I'm so pleased you have found each other. You deserve happiness." Her words slurred off her tongue and into the cell.

"Have you been drinking?"

Drinking, yes. Thinking, no.

"A little." She watched as a suited, thirty-something walked into the bar, and then clocked her sitting alone in the booth. Before he could even approach, she shook her head, letting him know she wasn't interested. "But I'll let you get back to your evening."

"Are you at home?" he asked, and for a moment she thought about lying. Because if she told him where she was, she knew he'd lecture her about personal safety.

"I'm in a bar."

"Alone?"

"Yep."

"Fuck," he swore softly, and for a moment she remembered the way he'd whisper in her ear when they made love. "I'll send Jack over to drive you home. Where are you?"

She looked around for evidence of the bar name, coming up short when she realized there was nothing on the inside of the room. Then she glanced down, noticed the beer mat and smiled.

"Murphy's. In Soho."

"Don't move." His words were a command, and she took him seriously. She didn't even want any more of the claret sitting in the bottle in front of her. All she really craved was the soft warmth of her duvet and the cleansing oblivion of sleep.

. . .

Bella sobered a little in the fifteen minutes she was waiting. The bartender brought over the tab, and a glass of water, and she swallowed it down, hoping to cleanse her system of alcohol.

Banging the glass back down on the dark, scratched table, she watched some water spill over its rim, forming a pool on the wood. Mindlessly, she circled a finger in the liquid, spreading it into a pattern, wondering how long she would have to wait. Then another loser sat down next to her and she sighed, turning to give him a narrow-eyed bitch stare.

The taunt died in her mouth before she could articulate it.

"Edward!" Just seeing him there made her jump. He was wearing a dinner suit, though his bow tie was missing and the top button of his dress shirt undone. "I thought you were sending Jack."

"I decided to come with him." He answered quietly, his eyes scanning her face in concern. "It was a good excuse to leave dinner early."

He looked tired. In the dingy light of the bar she could see lines pulling at the corner of his eyes; dry and deep. She bit her lip, knowing he was being kind.

Edward stared straight back at her, lifting his hand up as if he wanted to stroke her hair, or cup her face. Then he dropped it suddenly, as if he was remembering the terms of their rapprochement. It included walking on eggshells.

"Is Lauren with you?" She swallowed hard. Knowing he was with another woman was one thing-seeing them together while she was at her lowest ebb was another.

"She's visiting her parents. It was just me and three hundred and fifty of New York's finest." He grimaced slightly, remembering the evening. "So believe me when I say you did me a favor." He stood up and pulled her coat from the hook at the side of the booth. "Now let's get you home."

Bella stood and turned, putting her arms into the sleeves as he held her jacket, allowing him to pull it over her shoulders. He held on for a moment too long, and she had to steady her legs to stop herself from leaning in to him. He was the sun and she was in orbit; circling, attracted to him but afraid to get too close in case she imploded.

Letting out a small breath of air, Edward turned her around and helped her to fasten the large buttons on the front of her black, woolen coat. This wasn't how he'd envisaged his night panning out. He'd planned a nice, civilized dinner, perhaps followed by a brandy or two, and then an early night. Instead here he was; standing in front of Bella. His body felt electric, like just by seeing her he'd come alive. His nerve endings fizzled and stabbed like a thousand tiny needles.

He hesitated for a moment before taking her hand in his. But then he saw two of the guys at the bar turn around to stare at Bella, a look of disappointment on their faces, and he felt the need to mark his territory.

Even if it wasn't his to claim.

"You really don't need to do this," she mumbled, just before she tripped over her own shoe. He tried to restrain a laugh, but it came out strangled, causing her to stare at him indignantly. "Do you find this funny?"

"A little," he admitted, putting his arm around her shoulder to lead her to the main door. She kept veering to the right, like a car whose steering was slightly off-kilter. "But I'll try to restrain myself."

"Good," she replied grumpily, trying to hide her own amusement, "because I don't want to have to hit you."

"Which one of me will you hit?"

"Both," she muttered. "I'm not that drunk."

Bella stumbled against him again, and Edward held her tightly, trying not to point out the obvious. By the time they were in the car she felt sleepy, burying her head in the wool of his jacket, her voice languid as she continued to spout a mouthful of drivel.

"Do you remember when we first met?" she asked him. "You were all smart in your evening suit, and I was a hot ball of mess."

"That's not how I remember it." He was murmuring into her hair, breathing in the aroma of her shampoo. "You looked hot as hell in that waitress uniform." Memories of black hair and kohled eyes assaulted his senses. "I couldn't wait to show you my PlayStation."

She giggled, then hiccuped. "Is that a euphemism?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, looping his arm around her shoulder and rubbing her arm with his finger.

"I can remember being impressed by your ... ardor."

Jack brought the car to a stop. Even at eleven o'clock on a Tuesday night the streets were crammed with traffic. Edward wondered if Bella would make the journey without falling asleep. Perhaps that would be better all around.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should."

The car was filled with silence, and Edward let his head fall back, working out his next move. He wanted to make sure she got back to the apartment safely, and he knew that today of all days was difficult for her. If he could just put her to bed and watch her sleep, he'd feel better about the whole thing. He tried to suppress the anger he felt with himself, and her friends, for letting her go through this alone.

It was twenty minutes before Jack pulled up outside the apartment on the Upper East Side. Bella was so quiet that he wondered if she really had fallen asleep. But as soon as the car came to a stop, she lifted her head up and stared at him, the corners of her lips twitching.

"Thank you for the lift."

He was confused for a moment, before realizing she intended to go into the apartment without him, and for some reason that wouldn't do.

"I'll see you in, make sure you're safe."

She chuckled. "I think all the druggies and murderers have gone home for the evening. The scariest thing in there will be Mrs Van Kemp staring at my shoes with disdain, and telling me I'm lowering the tone again."

"Humor me."

She nodded rapidly, then started to jab her hand, trying to release her seat-belt. He bit back a chuckle before pointing out she wasn't wearing one.

"Stop laughing at me." She gently slapped at his arm. "It isn't funny."

He'd spent enough time at his father's apartment to know the doorman, nodding at him as he half-carried Bella to the elevator. Through the thickness of her winter coat she felt small and vulnerable, and he wondered if his need to protect her was just a natural reaction to her size. Perhaps, like with Alice, he wanted to shelter her from the world and keep her safe.

The thought cheered him, as he grabbed the door key from her bag and slid it into the lock. Flicking the light switch on with one hand, he supported Bella with the other, his arm curving around her waist. She kicked off her shoes, and they landed on the tiled floor with a clunk.

"Do you want to do a scan of the apartment, to make sure Ted Bundy isn't hiding in the washer-dryer?" she asked; a flash of amusement in her eyes. "Or maybe the boogie man is under the bed. Shall we grab a baseball bat just in case?"

He flashed her a small grin, taking her coat and hanging it neatly in the hall closet. "The scariest thing you need to worry about is the hangover you'll have tomorrow morning."

He walked to the kitchen, pulling a tall glass from the white lacquered cupboard. Filling it with water from the large fridge-freezer, he carried it to the guest room, placing it on the bedside table.

"Where do you keep your painkillers?" he asked, trying not to watch as Bella unpinned her hair, letting it cascade down her shoulders. "I'll grab you a couple and then I'll be gone."

She blinked in the mirror, her eyes meeting his, "in the vanity cabinet above the sink."

Edward walked in the bathroom, surprised at the lack of cosmetics and products littering the sides. It was so different from Lauren's apartment on the Upper West side. Grabbing the blister packet of Panadol, he brought it back to her bed.

Bella sat on top of the coverlet, her head resting against the headboard, and he popped two pills out, placing them gently in her mouth. Lifting the glass to her lips he encouraged her to drink, unable to stop himself from running his hand through her hair as she swallowed.

"That feels good." Her eyes were closed as his hand caressed her. "Can you stay for a while?"

"You need to get into bed." He reached around to her back and pulled down her zipper. The movement felt too intimate, and he had to try and suppress his reaction to her proximity. "You'll feel better after a good sleep."

"You're so nice." Her voice was just a murmur, and she shuffled closer to him, her head nuzzling into the crease between his shoulder and neck. "And you smell great, you always smelled great, even in the mornings. It's one of the things I miss most about us."

Things were moving well into the realm of inappropriate. As the more sober of them both-despite having had a few glasses of champagne and wine at the reception-he felt responsible for this sudden turn in events. And he was more than a little aroused.

"You miss the way I smell?" He tried to turn it into a joke, but then she started to peel her dress away from her body.

He was instantly hard.

"Close your eyes, I just need to change." Her command was pretty weak, and more than a moment too late. He did as instructed, digging his fingernails into his palms, trying to stop himself from touching her. If he saw the soft, pale arc of her breast, he'd be done for.

The bed undulated as she struggled with her clothing. He stayed as still as he could; battling with the incredible urge to open his eyes, and see her in all her naked glory. Did she look the same as he remembered, all soft skin and gentle curves? Or had the last five years changed her on the outside as well as within?

He'd never thought of himself as the type to cheat. He was engaged to a woman who trusted him implicitly, and he wanted to deserve that trust. The thoughts whirling around in his mind were completely indefensible. He felt like shit.

"I'm decent." Bella lay back on the bed, her hair fanning out across the white cotton pillowcase. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome." Even as he spoke, he could see her starting to flag, her eyelids fluttering as her face took on a peaceful expression. He reached out and smoothed the hair away from her eyes, feeling her smooth skin dimple against the hard pads of his fingers. She sighed gently, and he felt his erection harden further, as he stared at her flushed, swollen lips.

Just a taste.

A small reminder of the past.

A chance to finally turn the lock on the door of their relationship, and throw away the key.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, and her soft breath bathed his skin. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him; not in horror … but in lust … and love and everything he was feeling in the pit of his stomach.

She threw her arms around his neck, and pulled him against her, crashing her mouth to his. Every inch of him was dazzlingly awake, pleasure shooting from his groin to the tip of his toes.

He'd thought the kiss would let him lock the door on the past and throw away the key. All he'd managed to do was open up the Pandora's box that contained all of their emotions. Unlike Pandora, he allowed every sensation to escape, making his body explode in a way he hadn't experienced in the past five years.

Moving his hand down her body, brushing his fingers against her breast until she started to moan, he allowed himself to drown in the most frightening emotion of all.

Hope.

* * *

**A/N Thanks to SunflowerFran and Sparrow for their help, and to you for reading. **

**I loved your comments and reviews. If you want to chat I'm on twitter and Facebook. Links are my my profile. Choc xxx**


	31. Chapter 30

**Fix You Chapter 30**

**9th February 2010**

It was like everything in the room exploded into brilliant Technicolor, sobering her faster than a bucket of ice water. The moment his lips brushed hers, she knew she'd reached the point of no return.

Edward's fingers curled around her neck, making her skin hum to the beat of her heart. His soft lips continued their assault on her mouth, and she opened her own to receive him, letting his tongue drag against hers, sucking it softly before scraping her teeth against him.

It had been too long, and she was way too hungry to do anything but give as good as she got.

The mattress dipped as he rested above her, hips scraping against hers, and she couldn't help but gyrate, feeling his hard cock grind against her stomach. His fingertips brushed down her side in light, feathery strokes, making her nipples hard and her thighs damp.

"Bella," he exhaled against her cheek. She bit her lip and tried to stop herself from responding, fearing she couldn't do it without sounding like a whore. She tried to distract him by grinding again.

It seemed to work.

"Let me—" He didn't wait for permission. She would have given it anyway. He pushed her tank up to her neck, baring her breasts, and as he stared down at them, his tongue snaking across his lips, Bella could feel his dick twitch against her once more. His fingers teased, making her nipples pebble, and the pleasure shoot down to her groin.

Her inner monologue started to distract her. The fear they were really going to do this was swiftly replaced by the agony they might not. Somewhere deep inside she knew doing this was wrong, but she repressed the thought, buried it under the intense need shooting through her nerves.

It was hard to look him in the eye. Bella wasn't sure what would be there, wasn't even certain what it was she wanted to see. Desperation perhaps or maybe a need reflecting hers? What she feared was regret, sadness, or a hint of pity, and she knew if she saw any of that, she would curl up and weep.

She didn't want to cry. She felt too good for tears or for regret. She'd waited far too long to feel his mouth pulling at her nipples, bathing them gently before scraping his teeth on her flesh.

She needed to get her mind to shut the hell up.

Sensing her fears, Edward cupped her chin with his hand, lifting her face until she couldn't avoid meeting his stare. When her chocolate eyes met hunter green, she knew she was completely wrong.

They flashed fiercely, narrowed and dark, and the way he stared made her feel breathless.

"I need—" Like Edward, she couldn't finish her sentence to let him know what she wanted. She didn't have to. His hands cupped her ass, fingers pulling at her shorts, until they were softly dragging against her thighs, leaving her exposed and desperate. Cool air met damp skin, making her buck a little, trying to create a friction from a vacuum. Her thighs were sensitive and clammy as he dug his fingers in, gently forcing her apart.

It felt so good.

His fingers dipped, caressing the damp skin in the crease of her thigh. He pulled her apart, until she was more exposed than ever, gliding against her, then pushing until her body released, inviting him in. This time she moaned; a low, pleading half-breath, and then flexed her hips until his fingers were inside her.

"Fuck." He almost spat the words out, and she wanted to look in his eyes for reassurance. She wasn't sure who needed soothing the most.

Edward's head moved down her body, his lips finding her core, tongue pointed and strong, dragging against her and making her buck in time to his rhythmic movements. The dizziness in her head had nothing to do with the wine she had consumed, and everything to do with the sensations he was creating, his fingers curling inside until she was almost vibrating with need. Her hands ached to touch, and she let them flutter toward him, sliding them into his hair, tugging until she could feel him groan against her.

Bella's eyes opened wide, her mouth wider, and she let out a noise somewhere between a scream and a wail. Edward pushed a third finger inside as she began to clench against him, intensifying the pleasurable sensation until her knees began to quake. She was so close.

As soon as he withdrew his hand she felt empty. His leg slid inside hers, and she reached around fumbling at his buttons, her fingers slipping like an over-excited child opening a birthday present. Finding purchase, she pulled his fly apart, feeling his zipper unhook, tugging at his pants until he got her message, wriggling his ass to help her pull them down.

Edward took over the task, pushing them down past his calves, and she followed him with her hands. She caressed his flesh, feeling his hard thigh muscles stretched under taut skin.

"Take off your top." He knelt on the bed, pulling at his shirt, and she dragged her tank over her head, flinging it across the floor in her desperation to be naked. His knees were either side of her thighs, caging her in, making it hard not to stare at the outline of his hard dick through the his dark shorts.

Reaching out a finger, she traced a line down to his balls, drawing a gasp from his lips. He grew a little harder, the head of his cock emerging from his shorts, and she watched as a small bead of pre-come formed at the slit. Leaning forward, she licked it off, and a strangled groan escaped from Edward's lips. She liked the sound so much; she did it again; running the blunt end of her tongue against him, and then twirling it around, kissing and sucking him with her mouth, using her hands to push his shorts a little farther down his hips.

Edward reached his own hand around to cup the back of her head, encouraging her lips into a steady rhythm. Dragging her tongue down the underside, she pulled her mouth back up his cock, licking, kissing, tasting.

"Stop." He steadied her head, and for the first time she looked up and caught his eyes. Her lips were still wrapped around his dick. His own mouth was swollen, still glistening, slightly parted to allow his short breaths to meet the air. "I want to be inside you."

His words hit her blood like a shot of heroin. Bella moved her head back, watching his cock spring against the defined muscles of his stomach, then grabbed at his shorts, desperate to pull them from his body.

"Lie down." He placed his palm flat against her shoulder, pushing her back onto the mattress, sheets soft and silky against her back. Kicking his shorts from his ankles, Edward moved over her, hands caging her head, until she was unable to turn, cornered like a hunted animal.

She was almost too wet. His hips pushed against her tender thighs as he lined himself up against her, pausing for a long, drawn out moment, before thrusting, pushing his cock inside until he was completely sheathed within.

"Edward." Her words were little more than breath.

He kissed her again. She could taste herself on his lips. His hips flexed, and he withdrew, dragging himself against her like a bow against a violin. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her response under control.

"Open your eyes. I want to see you," Edward gasped. His movements were steady but his words were not. He felt like heaven between her thighs and she squeezed them tighter, hooking her heels around his back, dragging him in.

She was drowning. She wasn't sure if he was going to save her or push her under.

"Are you close?" Edward's breath was getting harsher, his movements erratic, and she knew he was nearing release. Bella opened her mouth to respond in the negative, but her words were drowned out by the sensation of his finger rubbing her clit, making small, delicious circles, drawing out her pleasure like an artist.

Bella cried out, burying her head in the dip of his neck, feeling his clamminess against her lips. His hips crashed against hers, her moans stifled by his flesh, her body clenching hard against him.

His groans amplified as he moaned against her ear, and even if she couldn't feel him pulsing inside her, she would have known he was coming from the change in his breathing. He whispered a soft oath as he peaked, and she felt herself spasm again, grinding against him, as they clung to the long moments like slaves to sensation.

Then it was over.

Her wet, sticky thighs cradled his hips, his skin heavy against her body. Their harsh pants became longer, thinner, like stretched-out breaths, as they both crashed down; the reality hitting them like a sledgehammer to the skull.

Lying naked beneath the man who she was all kinds of fucked up about, his cock still inside her, Bella knew she must look like shit. Her brown hair was crazy against the light blue of the pillow, her makeup skewed from a day of crying and a night of over-consumption.

His hips lifted up as he withdrew, and Bella let her head fall back onto the mattress, as she stared up at the silver and glass light fixture above the bed, letting the brightness of the bulb burn into her retinas. Even with her eyes closed she could still see them, like a ghost of what could have been.

"Bella, I ..." He sounded as awkward as she felt, all stuttering consonants and drawn out vowels.

She blinked a couple of times, burned-in images turning from black to white, making her eyes sting. Edward rolled over beside her. She watched as he reached out, and then stopped himself, hand hovering in mid-air.

"Don't." Her voice was low and scratchy. She swallowed hard, feeling the dry wool of her throat. She wanted him to pull her into his arms.

"I'm sorry; I had no right to take advantage."

"You didn't, I wanted it too." She bit down hard on her lip. The pain felt good.

Edward rolled onto his back, flinging an arm over his face, covering his eyes. Away from the heat of his stare, she allowed herself to look at his body, her gaze moving from the stubbled skin of his neck, down to the taut, flat skin of his abdomen. Only moments before, that body was pressed down on her own, creating a burning fire as flesh touched flesh.

Now she was shivering.

"Come here." He pulled her against him, and her eyes fluttered shut. She wanted him to leave, but was desperate for him to stay. Knowing he was so close and yet so far away was achingly painful, numbed only by the sweet surrender of sleep.

Rather than think anymore, she submitted to its siren call, her need for oblivion stronger than ever.

. . .

At first, when she awoke the next morning, Bella allowed herself to think it was a dirty, alcohol-induced dream, able to disappear into thin air as the reality of daylight encroached. But the ache between her legs was too real, and she didn't have to reach down to feel the evidence of last night's activities. She only had to inhale Edward's scent to remember what happened in clear, vivid detail.

She lifted her hand up and ran her fingers through her hair, her progress hampered by the knots created by rampant sex and restless dreams. Daylight forced its way through the thick fabric of the curtains, slithering through the area above the rail, like a snake traversing the smallest gap.

"I didn't mean to wake you." His voice was soft, his touch sure, as he sat down on the bed beside her, making the mattress dip under his weight. He was dressed, wearing just his dress pants and white shirt from the night before, and it took Bella a moment to realize the implication.

"You're leaving?"

"I have a seven a.m. meeting. I can't get out of this one." His words were laced with regret. Then he leaned and brushed his lips over her forehead, leaving a trail of ice across her skin.

"Oh." She frowned a little, trying to think of a suitable response. It was like her brain hadn't caught on to the fact she was awake yet.

"Can we meet this evening?" he questioned, his lips still feathering her skin. "We need to talk."

She gnawed at her lower lip, the reality of the situation hitting her like a curveball. There was so much to talk about. She didn't know where to begin, wasn't even sure she was ready to open the dam they'd carefully constructed. She was sure the flood would drown them both.

"I've got interviews all day. I'll be free at six."

"Interviews?" His forehead wrinkled. She reached out a finger to smooth them. Even the sensation of his skin against hers was enough to light her flame.

"For my replacement … bad timing hey?"

The story of their lives …

"I'll pick you up at six. Don't make any rash decisions."

"Why not?" The unspoken words were like a scab, she wanted to pick at it, make it bleed.

"Because I want you here with me."

"I'm not a cheater, Edward, and neither are you."

Except they were …

Now they both were …

The muscles in his cheek twitched as he looked down at her. In the half-light of the morning his skin looked warm and tan. She wanted to kiss it all over.

"When Lauren comes back next week, I'm going to tell her it's over."

Just like that, her heart felt like it had grown wings and flown out of her chest. Though welcomed, his words were like a bolt out of the blue. It seemed that in the course of a day she had gone from having nothing, to possibly having it all.

They were so close. She could almost feel her fingers wrap around the metaphorical cup.

"Okay." Her words came out as a whisper, and she sat up, the sheets falling from her body to reveal her naked chest. The twitch in Edward's cheek got stronger, and she rapidly grabbed the sheets and pulled them up to her shoulders.

"I want to touch you so badly," he confessed, his hands balled into fists as if he were restraining himself. "But I've fucked everything up so far."

"Edward—"

"No, hear me out. You know I love you, I've always loved you, and you don't deserve to be anything but first in my life. I shouldn't have slept with you while I was still with her."

"You were drunk. We both were."

"It doesn't excuse anything." He was agitated now, long fingers raking through his hair. "Let me try to fix this, let me do this right. Can we try to just be friends until next week?"

Bella sighed, relief flooding her chest. "Maybe we can just date for a while after that? Have a do-over?"

Finally he smiled. It was an eye-crinkling, white-teeth-revealing grin, and she wanted to throw herself into her arms and consume every part of him.

"Dating sounds perfect. The next time I make love to you, I plan to make you mine."

. . .

By the time she reached the subway, the morning rush hour had dissolved, and trains came less frequently. When hers finally arrived, she found an empty seat, sitting down heavily on the hard plastic, pulling her purse against her chest like a shield. Staring out of the scratched, graffiti-covered window across from her, she soaked up the blur of tiled walls, and dark tunnels emerging into bright stations.

When she eventually walked into her building, Bella was in no state to concentrate on her day. She was moments away from calling Edward, just to hear his voice. Now she'd had a taste of him her body craved more.

She felt like an addict.

"Your first candidate is here," Lisa called out as she whipped past her. Bella lifted a hand in the air to let the receptionist know she'd heard her, running to her office, pulling off her coat and throwing it on the rack.

It was 5:30 p.m. by the time the final interview came to a close. Bella shook the candidate's hand, a small smile dancing across her lips, and walked him to the elevator.

It had taken all day, but she'd finally found the right man for the job. Like Bella, Paul Lahote came from a music-journalism background, and his knowledge of the New York scene rivaled her own in its encyclopaedic nature. She felt a little sad she wasn't going to be working alongside him in New York. They'd hit it off from the start, and she'd spent half the interview asking him questions about the gigs he'd been to recently, arguing good-naturedly with him about the merits of various groups.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Paul," she finally said as the elevator car arrived. "You'll be hearing from us very soon."

"You too, Bella." He pushed back a lock of blond hair that had fallen into his left eye. His cheek dimpled into a smile.

As soon as he walked into the elevator, she turned and made her way back to her office, planning to call the agency to offer Paul the job. When she hung up the phone, she saw the black leather of her coat, glinting against the winter sun shining through the window, and she grabbed it, shrugging it on, excited that she only had half an hour before she would see Edward again.

How had she stood being apart from him for all this time? It was like he had brought her back to life with just one night. Like a sculptor, he had taken the dull-gray clay of her life and sculpted it into something beautiful.

She felt so alive.

It was five past six when her cell rang, and she tried not to smile when she heard the jarring chords of 'Last Night' by the Strokes blaring out of her purse. Edward had been busy re-programming her cell while she was asleep. She liked these flashes of humor, amongst the seriousness of their situation. They gave her hope.

"Hello?"

"Bella?" He sounded breathless. Beneath the timbre of his voice she could hear the familiar sounds of the city; humming motors, beeping horns and the perpetual drone of police sirens.

"Are you outside?" She didn't bother to disguise her enthusiasm. She was just so damned happy.

"Sweetheart, there's been a change of plan"

"Oh?" The excitement poured out of her like sand spilling from a broken timer. "Are you still coming to pick me up?"

"Lauren's been in an accident." His voice was a monotone. Bella frowned for a moment, trying to think of something to say; a reassuring word, a peaceful sentence. But the only thing in her mind was pure, blind panic.

Every part of her ached to see him. To have that option taken away from her hurt so much. He had to go to Lauren, of course he had to, but it didn't make his choice sting any less.

"I'm on my way upstate now. It sounds bad." His voice cracked and she ached to touch him. Her hands curled around the thin air of her disappointment, a poor substitute for his body. She could feel herself start to shake at the news, the knowledge that Lauren's accident was serious. Please God, let her be okay.

"I don't know what to say, Edward, I'm so sorry."

"I'll call you when I know more. Give me some time, okay?"

She took a deep breath, letting the oxygen fill her lungs, holding it inside until the burning need to exhale took over her mind. Letting it out with a woosh, she eventually calmed herself enough to reply.

"Concentrate on Lauren. Let me know how she is."

"I love you." His words were desperate. Bella tried to hold on to them, like a child catching a bubble as it danced through the air. When she opened her hands she feared it would be gone.

"I love you too." There was nothing else to say. Her mind was bursting with the things she wanted to share, but they would have to wait; for the right day, for the right time.

Now, she had to let him go. He still belonged to Lauren.

Until he severed the tie, she was the one on the outside looking in.

The guilt that she'd suppressed all day was growing like topsy in her mind, and she wondered if it was a judgement from above or just plain, bad luck.

She began to suspect it was a little of both.

* * *

**A/N Much love to SunflowerFran and Sparrow. **

**Thank you all for your comments and reviews, I loved reading them. If you want to chat I'm on twitter and Facebook. Links are my my profile. Sometimes I even post teasers and pictures! **

**Have a great weekend. Next chapter will be up midweek.**

**Choc xxx**


	32. Chapter 31

**Fix You Chapter 31**

**February 2010**

The cloying fragrance of Lysol and death seemed to cling to the hospital like a scorned lover. Even in the family waiting room, where the staff had tried hard to make it homey and familiar, the aroma still wafted, never disguised by the scented air fresheners dotted throughout the room.

Edward had been sitting here for six hours. Lauren's parents had left earlier, her mother's face ashen and drawn as her husband took her home to get some sleep, and perhaps some pills to calm her down. Edward had promised to call as soon as there was news. His vow had been enough to persuade her that resting her seventy-year old bones in a hard plastic chair was futile.

So now he was alone. The dark leather of his shoe scuffed the light-grey ceramic tiles, tapping his foot back and forth in an agonizing rhythm.

It was all his fault. For once he had wanted something for himself: something good, that felt so right. But he'd gone about it all the wrong way and fucked everything up so badly.

It cut to the quick that Lauren was paying the price.

The thick painted door on the other side of the room opened, and Edward stood immediately, his heart racing as he prepared himself for the news.

"Mr Cullen?"

"Yes."

The doctor looked so young, like he was barely out of high school. His pale blonde hair was plastered to his head, indented above his ears where he had been wearing a mask. His scrubs were freshly laundered. Edward wondered how much mess Lauren's operation had made. Clearly it was enough to warrant a change of clothing.

"I'm Doctor Matthews, I was assisting with Miss Devries's procedure. We managed to stop the blood loss, although it took some time. We've realigned her pelvis bone, and attached an external fixator to help it set. She isn't out of the woods yet, I'm afraid. The next twenty-four hours will be critical." Doctor Matthews stopped talking to take a breath, his weary sigh betraying the stress he had been under.

Edward knew how he felt.

"Is she awake?"

"She'll be in a medically-induced coma for the next few days. Once we bring her around we'll be able to assess any brain damage she may have sustained. Until then, I'm afraid it's in God's hands."

Even the words were enough to freeze the blood in Edward's veins. He had spent the evening thinking about her shattered pelvis, and the pain she must have been in as soon as her car impacted with the truck. But to consider she might have suffered any trauma to the brain was too much to bear.

"I need to call her mother," Edward muttered, swallowing hard to keep his emotions in check. "Is there anything else I should tell her?"

"I'm afraid there's very little to tell. The next few days will be critical, once she wakes up we'll be able to give a better prognosis. Until then, we'll do our best to keep her comfortable."

"Thank you." Edward leaned forward and shook the doctor's hand, swallowing the large lump forming in his throat. It was inappropriate, but he would have given anything for Bella to be with him, holding his hand, reassuring him it would all be okay.

The doctor left, and Edward sat back down on the hard, moulded chair, his back aching as he took his familiar, sprawling pose. Pulling his cell from his pocket he called Lauren's parents, reassuring them he'd stay at the hospital and report any news as soon as he heard it.

It was nearly 4 a.m. He scrolled through his contacts, his finger stopping on the 'S's, and he saw Bella's above the pad of his finger. The sight reassured him as he read the letters that formed her name, white letters against dark screen.

His fingers itched to press the call button. If he closed his eyes he could picture her asleep, looking the way she did the previous night, her hair fanned across the white cotton of her pillowcase, her eyes squeezed shut as she dreamed hard and deep. Every now and again she would mutter something, her words so fast and faint he couldn't understand what she was saying. It didn't stop him from leaning toward her, so close he could feel her breath dance across his cheek as he listened; unintelligible words spilling from her lips like coins from a jackpot machine.

God, she was so beautiful. When he woke up in the morning, he had laid in bed just staring at her, trying to reassure himself this wasn't a dream. He had taken the final, terrifying step into her arms, and discovered it was the least frightening place on earth.

It was home. It was love. It was everything.

He could wish for better circumstances, and for a better time, but history had taught him no time was good enough for them. They had to grab their own little piece of happiness, and wrap it up tightly. Everything about them was so fragile and unstable he feared the smallest gust of wind could blow it all away.

He thought back to the previous morning, when he arrived at work for his 7 a.m. meeting. Even Heidi had noticed his good humor and had found it infectious. The day had turned out to be such a good one.

Right until he'd received the phone call from Lauren's mother at 5.30 p.m. A few simple words and his confidence in the future had shattered. He'd only had a day to imagine what his life with Bella would be like, but it was enough to make the cruel way it had been stolen from him lay like a lead balloon in his stomach.

He was mad at the world for dangling perfection in front of him, then snatching it back before he had time to grab hold. Even angrier that Lauren was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for her life, because a truck driver decided to drive through a red light in his hurry to get home. Most of all he was furious at himself; for taking something which wasn't his. For making love to Bella before he was free. The moment he tried to escape from the prison of his own making, somebody slammed the door and locked him tightly inside.

He pushed himself up from his chair, kicking it as he stood, hearing it clatter as it fell against the ceramic floor. He was feeling nervy, like he wanted to punch something, to destroy the way he had been destroyed. Fury burned at him like a furnace; it was a painful, burning ache which made him want to scream.

He'd had it all. For a single, perfect, unforgettable moment, he'd held his future in his hands, and it felt amazing.

Whoever said 'it is better to have loved and lost' had clearly never loved Bella Swan. To have loved her and lost her was more than painful; it cut him to the bone.

He was like a lapsed addict. One taste and he was on his knees, working out how to get his next fix. But while he remained engaged, and his fiancé remained in hospital, he was going to have to go cold-turkey. As much as he loved Bella, he owed it to Lauren to stay by her side, to make sure she recovered without learning what a bastard he had been.

He picked his chair up and sat back down, leaning his head against the cold painted wall. Letting his eyes close for the first time in twenty-two hours, he tried to chase the sweet release of sleep, hoping to see the girl he loved behind the curtains of his dreams.

. . .

Paul started at Buzz Media the following week and Bella found herself clearing out her desk, packing boxes full of demo CDs and dog-eared magazines. Her iPod was blasting out the latest 'Fatal Limits' release and she allowed herself a little smile when she heard Jasper's voice caressing the lyrics.

It didn't take too much for Bella to work out who his 'Perfect Angel' was. The only thing she wanted to know was why he hadn't made a move on Alice yet. She was, after all, twenty-one now, about to graduate from University. Under any circumstances, that was nobody's definition of jail bait.

Yet he continued to watch her from the sidelines. When they talked, he would always mention her lightly, perhaps talk about a way he had 'bumped' into her. Bella knew he was wary of forming a relationship with Alice, when in six months' time Fatal Limits would be embarking on a world tour.

"Can I help with this?" Paul walked in, wearing a pair of low-slung jeans and a tight black shirt. He was carrying two cups from Starbucks, the white-and-green logo slightly marred by dribbles of brown coffee. He seemed to be about as adept as Bella at carrying things without spilling them.

"I'm sorry I didn't clear the office last week. I wanted to have it all ready for you before you started."

Paul put the cups down on the small area of the desk not littered with CDs. "No worries, I keep seeing CDs I want to borrow from you. Your collection is fantastic."

"You'll love the music studio. I've covered the walls with egg cartons. It deadens the sound."

"Maybe we can go in there as a treat later? In the meantime, show me what you want me to do."

They packed the boxes together; Bella stopping occasionally to point out a good band, or show Paul a favorite article in one of her old copies of Rolling Stone. They talked about his obsession with 'The National', having grown up watching them play in the Luna Lounge in Brooklyn. Bella told him about the night she'd watched the Strokes play in Manhattan, before they exploded into stardom, and they passed the morning in a comfortable haze of reminiscences.

It turned out Paul had been travelling the previous year, having given up a prestigious job in Silicone Valley to journey to Asia, treading the well-worn traveller's road from Thailand to Australia. As Bella packed the last of her things away, she smiled as he told her of his time in Sydney, following bands, deep diving into the Australian music scene. She didn't share her own experiences of the city, not wanting to mar the good humor of their day with details of her depression.

Paul taped up the final box, stacking it on top of the others, then placed the roll of packing tape on the desk. "So, you haven't told me what you do for fun around here?"

"Fun?" Bella was confused. "Going to gigs _is_ fun."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

The question took her aback. She stopped fiddling with the skin around her nails and looked up at him, meeting his blue eyes, noticing the creases around his lids.

She wasn't even sure how to answer his question. She had enough sense to know he was asking because he was interested, although knowing she was leaving for London very soon, she wasn't sure how interested he could be. Even worse, she wasn't sure how to classify the tiny embryo of her relationship with Edward. Were they seeing each other? Was she willing to classify herself as someone who would be dating a married man?

She resorted to the well-worn cliché. "It's complicated."

The corner of Paul's mouth curled. "I'm sure I can keep up."

Bella shook her head. "It's ten years' worth of complicated. Let's go listen to some music." She hoped he'd got the message. Things were messed up enough as it was, she didn't need to throw anything else into the mix. Edward's engagement, his fiancé's accident, and her return to London were enough to cope with as it was.

"Only if I get to pick the first band." Paul gave her an easy smile, and pulled one of the Company CDs off a shelf. "I'll try to give you a musical education, Brooklyn style."

"You're on." Bella grabbed her iPod from the stand and brought it with her. "I'll do the same for the British Contingent. We'll start with punk."

. . .

When Bella came out of the office it was already getting dark. The evening sky was a cloudy steel-grey, and though the weather was dry the air tasted of snow. She was going to miss the extreme highs and lows of living here; the stifling heat of summer, the bright oranges of the fall. London was a beautiful city—and the one closest to her heart—but Manhattan had been such a wicked love affair. She wondered why she used to hate it so much.

The wind was whipping up Second Avenue, and she turned up the collar of her coat, regretful she'd left her scarf in the office. A black sedan idled at the curb, grey vapour clouding from the exhaust, and she watched with interest as the back door opened.

"Bella."

Edward climbed out of the car, putting his feet on the sidewalk, and she found herself moving toward him. He looked so drawn; his skin was pale, his hair messed and she wanted to throw her arms around him and pull him tightly to her.

"I thought you'd still be with Lauren?" In the week since she'd last seen him, they'd only managed to speak on the phone a handful of times. Most of Edward's day had been made up of sitting with his fiancé, sorting out her insurance, and arranging her transfer to New York. Perhaps that was why he was here.

"I've been interviewing nurses." His voice was the same monotone she'd been hearing all week. It was like he was trying not to feel. "Lauren's being brought back tomorrow."

"How is she?" It was a stupid question. They were both standing here, restraining themselves from touching each other. The only thing stopping them was Lauren's health.

"Still not able to move very well, the doctors say we have to give it some time. They say with intense therapy there's hope she'll be on her feet soon."

"That's good news then?" The wind lashed against her cheek, making her pink up. A solitary flake of snow fell in front of her eyes, a thick clump, dancing in the air, in no hurry to reach the ground.

"I hope so." He was fiddling with the buttons of his coat. He looked as awkward as she felt, standing there, feeling the snow as it began to fall heavily. He cleared his throat, glancing up at the roof of her building, and she remembered he owned it. It was so strange, the way everything in her life lead back at him.

"I'm leaving next week," she blurted. The agony of being unable to touch him was pulling at her soul. "But I don't want to go."

He was agitated now, and she could see his eyes flash as he tried to calculate something in his mind. "Why don't you get the hell over here?"

She was in his arms before he'd finished the sentence. It didn't seem enough to just hold him tight, she wanted to climb inside him until they were one person.

"This is all so fucked up." She looked up at him. His eyes were glistening.

"I have to help Lauren get back on her feet. She can't live alone yet, she needs constant supervision." He twisted his fingers in Bella's hair. "But once she's up and healed, I'm going to tell her everything. I'll be on the next flight to London."

She dipped her head and nuzzled into his chest. His coat was slightly damp from the snow, and she could see the little beads of moisture cling to the wool fibers. Those words were more than she had hoped for; it was almost a promise for a future that could be theirs. But the thought of enduring months of pain, of wondering, was too much to bear.

"I love you, Edward." She ran her fingertips along the cold skin of his cheek. "And if you can come and find me, I'd be delighted to see you." She paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words. "We can't carry on an emotional affair while you're engaged to somebody else. I've been on the other side and it would kill me to hurt somebody else like that."

His hold on her loosened. "I know. I'm such a shit."

She tried to smile. "You aren't. Only … circumstances could be better. At least if I'm in London, we won't be tempted to see each other."

"They invented these little things called airplanes—"

She slapped him good humouredly, feeling more content than she had in days. "You know what I mean. While you're still with Lauren we need to stop this thing … or whatever you call it. Come find me when things are better for you. I'll still have the same address, and I know you have my cell number."

"It could be months."

"I'll be there."

He stood right in front of her, tipping her chin with his finger, lowering his own until his forehead was touching hers.

"You promise?" He was so close, she was losing herself in the green of his eyes. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to kiss him.

"I promise."

* * *

**A/N - SunflowerFran and SparrowNotes24 rock. Thanks for all your help!  
**

**I hope I got around to replying to all the reviews this week - I loved them all, so thank you. **

**Next chapter will be up at the weekend. In the meantime, come chat with me on Facebook or Twitter (links on my profile). Mwah! Choc xx**


	33. Chapter 32

**Fix You Chapter 32**

**June 2010**

It was embarrassing, and more than a little worrisome, that Bella hadn't even realized anything was wrong until two days earlier. She'd been sitting in Jasper's garden, watching him lose his wrestling match with his shiny, new, gas barbecue and trying not to giggle, when she first noticed the tiny kick. It felt a little like indigestion, though she hadn't eaten anything, despite her overwhelming hunger. Kate had taken one look at the way Bella clasped her stomach with over protective hands, before pronouncing, "You're pregnant."

A long discussion about the ability to have periods whilst being pregnant ensued, followed by a mad dash by Kate to find a pharmacy that was open on a Sunday. She'd eventually returned with three tests—all different brands, a bag loaded with pre-natal vitamins, and a bumper box of tissues for the tears she knew would ensure.

Bella wasn't sure if she was in shock, but the knowledge there was a little piece of Edward growing inside her had made her blood run hot and her heart beat like it might implode. She kept looking at the two lines; so strong and blue, and smiling secretly to herself. Jasper bit his lip and promised he'd look after her.

Now they were sitting in Jasper's car, heading for the Portland Hospital, where he'd arranged for an ultrasound and consultation with the top obstetrician in London. Despite Bella's protests, he'd argued she deserved the best care, and he'd pay for the initial consultation, telling her, 'Cullen can stump up for the rest.'

"Have you told him yet?" Jasper asked as the car swept past Regent's Park. The grass was littered with half-clothed bodies, desperate to take advantage of the mini heat wave in London, and Bella wondered idly if the weather in New York was as warm.

"I've been putting it off," she admitted, fanning her face with her hand. Despite the noisy whirr of the air-conditioning the interior was stifling, and she couldn't seem to cool down at all. "I want to see the evidence for myself first, before I call him."

She was dreading it. In her mind, Bella had a vision of Edward jumping on the first plane out, and sweeping her off her feet in a protestation of love. What if that didn't happen? Even worse, what if he denied the baby was his, and blamed her for ruining his engagement? She wasn't sure she could take the rejection. It was four months since she'd seen him last, and made him promise not to contact her until he was ready.

She hadn't heard anything from him—not a word—and she'd been avoiding the Cullens for fear she might hear that he was staying with Lauren for good. Waiting was hard enough, rejection would be a hundred times more painful.

"Was the baby kicking and three pregnancy tests not enough proof you're pregnant?" Jasper smiled. Bella watched the dimple bobbing above the curve of his jaw. "You should have told him already."

"What if he doesn't want it?" She voiced her worst fear. It didn't make her feel any better.

"It's not his choice to make," he reminded her, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb across her palm. "Even if he doesn't want it, you know I'll always be here with you."

Her heart clenched. Jasper was too good to her sometimes—and this was definitely one of those occasions.

The car turned into the hospital's private parking lot, and Bella felt her stomach clench. Outside the front entrance a few photographers leaned on the walls of the entrance, waiting for the next big celebrity to emerge.

"Are you sure you want to come in with me, what if somebody sees you?"

That was her biggest fear. If the paparazzi spotted him, they'd both end up as headline fodder. The Portland Hospital was a hotbed of celebrity births, and photographers routinely hovered outside, hoping to catch an exclusive.

"Nobody's going to see me. I've arranged for a space next to the back door, and we'll run in and out." He pulled something out of his pocket. "Anyway, I've brought my beanie with me."

Bella laughed as he pulled the black woollen cap over his blond curls. He always knew how to diffuse the tension, whether it be asking her to marry him when she found out she was pregnant—to which the answer was no—to putting a winter hat on in the middle of the hottest day in fifty years. She was so thankful to have him around.

Jasper's money talked, and it clearly had a lot to say. Their parking space was the best in the lot, and as soon as they walked through the back door, she was ushered straight into an ultrasound room. There was no hanging around in the waiting room or form-filling required. A couple of signatures, and she was lying on the bed, top up and jeans down, cool gel being poured on her stomach.

"You must both be so excited," the radiographer said, as she punched buttons into the monitor in front. Bella felt herself blushing at the inference, and glanced over at Jasper. He didn't seem perturbed at all.

"We are," he agreed, winking at Bella. She tried to smile back. She couldn't help but wish somebody else was sitting in his chair; someone like Edward Cullen.

"Well, I'm going to take a look, make sure everything is okay, and I'll turn the monitor around and show you what there is to see." The radiographer's voice was calm and reassuring, but the butterflies still flew around Bella's stomach. "You think you are around four months, is that right?"

"I think so." She knew so.

"Well, there won't be too much to see, but I'll try and point out some good stuff."

Bella looked down at her stomach, all shiny from the gel, and wondered how she hadn't suspected a thing. The slight protrusion seemed obvious now, as her stomach rounded up from her pelvis in a small arc.

Jasper leaned forward and took her hand in his. He looked more nervous than Bella, as the radiographer silently moved the wand across her skin, and Bella squeezed him back, flashing him a reassuring smile to try and calm him down.

The radiographer turned around and smiled at them both. "Okay, it all looks good."

Oh God. Those words were perfect. Bella hadn't known the baby even existed until two days ago, but suddenly her world was revolving around a tiny being no larger than an avocado.

And then she saw the monitor.

Her mouth fell open at the green and black image. Tears stung at her eyes, as she looked at the screen, seeing the tiny outline of a baby. She'd expected to see little more than a blob, but she could make out a head, and legs, and little arms flailing around as the radiographer pushed the wand on her belly.

"Jesus Christ," Jasper whispered. Bella turned to see tears pouring down his face. Her throat felt tickly and dry, and though she opened her mouth, she couldn't speak.

It was a baby. _Her_ baby, hers and Edward's and it was everything she wanted. Nothing in the world mattered more than the tiny little thing growing inside her, and she realized exactly what people meant by maternal instinct. She would do anything to protect this child, regardless of what happened. If that meant going through the pregnancy alone, without Edward by her side, she would do it.

"The baby looks perfectly healthy, and measures around four and a half inches. I've put your expected date of confinement down as November 3rd, but because you don't know the date of your last period, it's not precise."

"You're going to have a baby before Christmas," Jasper's excitement was infectious, and Bella grinned madly. She was already picturing a tiny infant, all bundled up in a Santa outfit, cute and cuddly, and surrounded by love.

"I'm going to take a few photographs for you now." The radiographer held the wand still and pressed a button on the keyboard, frowning in concentration. "The baby doesn't seem to want to pose; he or she is a feisty little thing."

A flash of pride warmed Bella's heart, and she wanted to hug herself with glee. She was pregnant with a healthy, feisty, gorgeous baby, and in around five months time she was going to be a mother.

_A mother._

"He's so beautiful." Jasper leaned in closer, so his head was right next to Bella's and they both stared intently at the monitor. The baby moved its arm again, like it was waving, and she felt Jasper kiss her temple, his breath soft against her skin.

"She is," she corrected, unable to tear her eyes away. Five months seemed so far away. Her mind started to make a list of things to do; move house, build nursery, and buy shit-loads of useless equipment which looked nice even though she'd never use any of it.

"Okay, I'll put your referral through. The obstetrician will want to see you next week, and I'll be doing some more tests at week twenty." She cleaned her stomach off, and as Bella sat up and adjusted her clothing, the radiographer handed the photographs to Jasper, who took them greedily.

"There you go, daddy. The first ones for your collection."

Jasper laughed and didn't bother to correct her, making Bella wonder if he was already feeling a little proprietorial about her child. She was unsure if it was a good thing or not—she didn't want to complicate things with Edward more than she already had.

But then she thought about it, and if Edward refused to help her, perhaps it was a good thing to have Jasper by her side. She didn't want to go through this alone, and he seemed over the moon about her pregnant state. It wasn't as if there was anything romantic between them; they were just good friends.

That reminded her. "Jasper, you can't tell Alice about this, not until I've spoken with Edward, okay?" The last thing she needed was for the Cullens to find out before she'd told the father.

"My lips are sealed until you pry them open, Bella. But you know I'm gonna get a mini Fatal Limits t-shirt made for your kid."

She laughed. "This baby is going to be the coolest on the block, with you for a Godfather and Kate as Godmother."

"Seriously? I'm gonna be a dad?"

His enthusiasm made her breath stop. Those were the right words, but from the wrong mouth. "A _God _dad," she corrected, but her words didn't seem to dent his ardour at all. "You get to spoil the kid rotten and take him or her out for its first drink."

"Can I do it soon?"

"Only if it's for a bottle of milk," Bella replied, and she let him take her hand as they left the room. "In the meantime I'll accept foot rubs and home-cooked meals."

"It's a deal." He winked at her, and she let herself feel a tiny spark of hope. If Jasper was this excited, perhaps Edward, too, would be over the moon.

. . .

Bella didn't go back to the office after the appointment. When she asked Jasper to drop her off at her flat, he had offered to come in with her, but she'd needed to be alone. She wanted to center herself, consider the implications, and prepare herself to make the telephone call. She planned to do it at 5 p.m. UK time, when it would be lunchtime in New York, and she stood a chance of catching Edward undisturbed.

For the hour before, she paced her flat, unable to concentrate on anything, or sit still long enough to let the fear take hold. In the kitchen, she cleaned the hob even though it was already sparkling, then she moved to her bedroom and rearranged her t-shirts into color-order.

Anything to avoid the need to think.

Thinking meant wondering about his reaction, and worrying about how he might reject her. She had been without him for four months. All he had to do was say the word, well four words, actually, and she'd have flown back with him to New York in a heartbeat. Was it too difficult for him to tell her 'my engagement is over'?

Five o'clock came and went. She was prevaricating, telling herself that ringing him on the dot of five was a little too keen, and he'd probably still be in a meeting. By the time the hand on her kitchen clock was showing ten past, she swallowed hard, and wished she'd asked Jasper to stay with her. This was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do.

Bella sat at the breakfast bar, elbows on the counter, head resting in her hands, and stared at her iPhone. Two taps of the screen and she'd be calling him, and this time on his cell. She didn't want to take the chance he wasn't in the office.

Two taps.

Just two.

At quarter past five she felt a tiny nudge in her stomach. Even the baby was getting tired of her procrastination, and Bella rubbed her skin, unsure whether she was trying to reassure herself, or her unborn child.

She owed it to him or her to tell their daddy. And she owed it to Edward to tell him the truth.

She unlocked her phone and opened up her contacts. Pressing her finger on Edward's name, she pushed it down on the green phone symbol, and watched the call connect before putting her cell to her ear.

One ring, two, and then three; each moment stretched beyond time, and the nausea in her stomach rose up, until her throat tightened.

"Hello?" A female voice. Not what she was expecting.

She took a deep breath. "May I speak with Edward, please?"

"Who's calling?"

"Bella Swan."

There was a long pause. She was about to repeat herself when the voice on the other end of the phone replied. "Bella, this is Edward's mother, I'm not sure if you remember me."

"Yes, I remember you, Mrs Black." How could she forget?

"He's not available right now. He's with his fiancé."

"I really need to speak with him, it's quite important." Bella surprised herself with her vehemence and Elizabeth too, if her response was anything to go by.

"I don't think anything is as important as Lauren's health," she replied tersely. "She's been told she will be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. The girl is crippled, Bella. Whatever you want to say, please don't bother, you can only cause them hurt." She paused momentarily, as if to allow her words to sink in, before adding, "Don't call him again."

Bella froze. For a moment she couldn't breathe, couldn't hear her own heartbeat. Reality fell like a ton of bricks, her previous certainty deserting her. It couldn't be true could it? When she last spoke to Edward, back in February, he was hopeful that Lauren would be able to walk again. How he must have suffered, knowing that she was unable to walk, and he would need to stay by her side.

She wanted to see the news in black and white, so she opened her laptop and typed Lauren's name into the search box. The details of the accident flashed onto her screen. There was no news beyond the initial report back in February, when there was speculation about whether she would be able to walk again. Bella felt her heart break as she remembered the vibrant, vivacious blonde, and tried to imagine her confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

How could she ever tell Edward she was having his baby, when he was needed so much? If she told him now, would he desert his fiancé, and come to help her? Could she ever look him in the eye and respect him if he did? Was she able to put him in that position, where he had to choose between his fiancé's health, and being with his child?

She knew she couldn't.

He would grow to hate her—and maybe their baby—for making him choose. He was a good man, almost too kind, and she knew his instincts would be telling him to stay with Lauren. All she had to do was remember how he had given up his dreams to take over Black Enterprises after William died.

Bella hung up without saying a word, putting her hand over her heart, and feeling it clatter against her palm. Her whole body shook, as she pressed more buttons on her phone and lifted it again, immediately calming upon hearing Jasper's voice.

"I need to leave London until the baby is born."

This time she wasn't running. She was stepping down, putting others before herself. And though it broke her heart to know she would have to cut herself off from her surrogate family, one thing she knew was she wouldn't be able to see the Cullens. If they were to tell Edward the truth about the baby, she knew his heart would be torn in two.

"What are you talking about?" Jasper's west-country accent was stronger when he was angry. Right now he sounded mad as hell. "Did Cullen flip you off?"

"No, nothing like that." Bella's heart was still racing from her phone call with Elizabeth. "Lauren's never going to walk again." Tears pricked at Bella's eyes.

"What do you mean?" Jasper's anger seemed to have morphed into confusion.

"I called Edward and spoke with his mom. She told me that Lauren will be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life." Bella began to pace the room, her bare feet slapping against the cool tiles. "I need to leave England. I can't let any of the Cullens see me pregnant. Can I go to your place in France?"

"Jesus Christ." She could hear Jasper's feet tapping as he paced his blond-wooden floor. "But you're going to tell him before you leave, right?"

"No." She swallowed hard.

"Bella, he deserves to know."

She could feel Jasper judging her, and she hated it. "If he knows, it's going to rip him in two. He'll be torn between us and I can't do it to him." She leaned down on the kitchen counter, resting her head in her hands. "Seriously, Jasper, who do you think I'd rather be right now, me or Lauren?"

"I guess that answer is obvious." He still sounded pissed.

"I've already come out of this with something wonderful. I could never live with myself if I was the one responsible for taking him away from her. She's lost the use of her body, I can't steal Edward too."

"You told me yourself Edward was going to leave her for you as soon as she was back on her feet."

"That was before he knew she'd never walk again. Everything has changed." Edward was the kindest, most self-sacrificing man she had ever had the luck to meet. He gave up all his plans when his step-father died, gave up his dreams for her more than once. This time she wasn't going to make him choose again.

Jasper sighed. "Of course you can use my villa in France."

Bella closed her eyes, already picturing herself in Nice. "Thank you."

"I'm going put you to work for your rent, though. The label has been on at us forever to have our biographies written. If you want to stay at my pad, you get to write the book."

A little flutter in Bella's stomach reflected the feeling in her heart. "I'd like that." It sounded like a challenge, something to put her mind to. "I do know all your deepest, darkest secrets. Are you sure you want me to reveal them?"

Jasper chuckled. "I'll be keeping an eye on what you write, in between the world tour." Fatal Limits were due to spend the next year touring the globe. Their tax advisor had told them it was the most efficient way to make money, particularly if they spent the following twelve months out of the UK. Maybe moving to France meant Bella would see more of Jasper than she'd hoped.

"What are you going to tell Alice?" His voice dipped slightly as he said her name.

"I'll tell her I'm writing a biography for a reclusive genius. I can still call and email, I just can't see her." _Or Esme and Carlisle._

"You're going to miss her graduation," Jasper warned, "she's not going to be happy."

Bella sighed. Alice was her sister, in everything but blood, and it broke her heart not to see her walk up the aisle and receive her much-earned diploma.

"I'll make sure I'm there when she gets her PhD." Alice had already been accepted at Columbia, and she was beyond excited about it.

"I'll do my best to distract her." She could almost hear Jasper wink.

"You do that. I'll remember to put it in your biography."

* * *

**A/N - I am so grateful to SunflowerFran and SparrowNotes24. You guys put up with me when I'm flailing around like a toddler. You rock. **

**To everybody who reads this fic - thank you, I appreciate you so much! **

**And for the reviewers. I love you guys, reading your thoughts makes my day. I'm always excited to discuss your theories and opinions, so thank you for taking the time to post.**

**See you in the week! Choc xx**


	34. Chapter 33

**Fix You Chapter 33**

**April 2012**

"_Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, baker's man" _

Bella touched Matty's tiny palm to hers, the slapping of skin on skin making his little eyes light up with delight. She repeated the song, and he squealed happily, nodding his head to encourage her to do it again.

He'd been awake for ten minutes, following a long afternoon nap, and it looked like he was going to be able to make it through until Jasper arrived. He'd made Bella promise to keep his godson awake until he got to his Villa in Nice, desperate to see how Matthew had changed in the few months since he'd last seen him.

"Row." Matty's vocabulary still consisted of single-word sentences, but each day he was understanding more; his face becoming so excited when Bella asked him to find his shoes, and he toddled back with them in his hand, giving them to her, and sitting down, putting his chubby legs in front of him.

Bella took his hands in hers and began to sing 'Row your Boat'. As always, he held his breath until she got to the bit about crocodiles, and then he would let out an almighty shriek, doubling over with giggles when she put her hands over her ears in an exaggerated fashion, pretending he had deafened her.

Christ, how she loved him. From the moment he was born, and placed in her arms, it was like the sun had come out after hiding behind clouds for months. The adoration she felt for him bubbled up inside her, squeezing her heart until it physically hurt. She would move mountains for this boy; slay dragons, battle through the mines of Moria if she had to. Nothing was too good for him.

She had given birth in a hospital just outside Nice. An easy, uncomplicated birth, it was like a herald, welcoming the easiest, happiest child she'd ever had the luck to come across. Not that he didn't cry—she was used to waking up in the night, finding his pacifier, offering him an extra feed. But even then, she was so conditioned to his needs, that it didn't seem like a drag to have to pull herself out of bed. She counted herself way too lucky for that.

She'd tried to push the memory of Edward out of her mind as she stared down at her newborn child, but he was never far away, always floating on the edge of her thoughts. She'd done the right thing that much she knew. While Lauren was paralyzed and consigned to a wheelchair, at least Bella had a beautiful future planned out with her son; even if he'd never be able to know his father.

Now Matty was eighteen months, no longer a baby. Matthew Edward Swan was her little man, light brown hair curling over his head, big brown eyes following her wherever she walked around the room. Bella counted herself lucky that she'd spent nearly every day of the past year and a half with Matty, working from Jasper's villa, writing Fatal Limits' biography, as well as doing her normal work for Buzz.

She'd adapted Jasper's orangery into an office. Her computer rested on a vintage, white wooden desk, and in the corner, piled high in a garish, plastic cornucopia, were Matty's toys. Every half-hour or so, she would take a break, sit with him and build bricks until he pushed them back down. She lived to hear his gurgling guffaws.

"Do you remember Uncle Jasper, Matty?" She lifted him onto her lap, burying her face in his soft, downy hair. "He likes to sing to you."

Matty babbled something unintelligible, and Bella played their usual game. She pretended to understand what he was saying, talking back to him as if he was just another adult.

"That's right; he recorded that song for you."

'_Dear Matty'_, released in February 2011 had gone platinum. Everybody thought it was a love song dedicated to a new girlfriend. Only the group, and Bella, knew that it was really declaring Jasper's love for his newborn godson. Every time she heard it, the song sent chills down Bella's spine.

Not everyone's child got to have a globally renowned band record a song just for them. As soon as Matty was born, Bella just wanted everybody to love him as much as she did. Jasper's words proved that he did just that.

Matty climbed in Bella's lap, pushing himself up to standing, so he could lace his fleshy arms around her neck. His wrists still had little rolls, looking like somebody had put elastic bands over his skin. Every day he was getting stronger, slimmer, more like a child. Only the delight of getting to know him better was enough to quell the sadness that her baby was growing up.

The only hint of a dark cloud on the horizon was that he'd never known his father.

A loud three-tone bleep from her phone alerted her to an incoming text. Lifting Matthew from her lap, she balanced him on her hip, walking over to the corner of the glass room and sitting down at her desk with Matty on her lap. Her iPhone was still lit up, and she lifted it, scraping her finger across the screen.

_**Landed in Monte Carlo. Should be there in a couple of hours, J**_

The final leg of Fatal Limits' world tour had been in Australia, and then Jasper had taken a couple of weeks off to relax and do some surfing. He'd flown home to London a few weeks ago, and now he was planning to join Bella in Nice for a while. They needed to go through the final proofs of the biography, and hoped to spend some time together, since Jasper had been away so much, after Matty was born.

Bella had only been back to London a couple of times herself. She still kept her flat there, knowing that one day she might want to move home, but at the moment, she felt settled in France, and Matty loved the gardens of Jasper's villa, and going to the beach. It was an altogether more peaceful way of life.

_**Will put the champagne on ice. Fish fingers for tea, B **_

She smiled as she sent him the text. One of his favorite parts of being a godfather was trying Matty's food. During his whirlwind visits to France, between tour dates, he'd enthusiastically feed Matty the frozen, pureed food that Bella had made, usually eating more than half himself, in his 'one for Matty, one for Jasper,' routine.

One thing was for sure, when Jasper got old and his teeth fell out, he was still going to love eating.

_**Best make an extra portion. I'm bringing someone with me, J**_

Now that was intriguing. To the best of her knowledge, Jasper was still single, although Bella suspected he had his regular hook-ups in some of the cities he toured. Her hope that he would get together with Alice seemed to go nowhere, and part of her suspected it was her own fault. In the carefully drawn lines between herself and the Cullens, Jasper had placed himself firmly in Bella's camp.

Not that she expected him to choose. She still kept in touch with Alice and Esme, almost surprised that they accepted her lame-ass excuse for not being able to see them. She'd invented an agreement between herself and the 'reclusive singer' she was writing about, stating she couldn't reveal her whereabouts to family and friends. Perhaps it was Esme's experience with New York eccentrics that led her to believe anything was possible, or Alice's preoccupation with her PhD in Molecular Physics. Either way, it had been embarrassingly easy to cover up Matty's existence.

As Bella carried Matty into the kitchen, putting him in his high chair so he could watch her prepare dinner, she remembered the Christmas just after Matthew was born, when she had flown back to London to spend the holiday with Kate. Jasper had been in Brazil at the time—recording Matty's song, unbeknownst to her—so rather than endure the festivities alone, she'd braved the two hour flight to London, shocked by the grey dullness of the city, delighted by the feeling of home.

She'd been living in France for five months by this point, long enough for the layout of the streets to seem strange, for her to look the wrong way when she wanted to cross the road. For the first time, she had to navigate the vagaries of London Transport with a baby in tow, along with copious bags, bottles, toys and a pram. It wasn't for the fainthearted.

On Boxing Day, she had been woken early by Matty's squeaky newborn cry, her breasts leaking just at the timbre. By 8 a.m. he had been fed and burped, and she knew that Kate and her friends would be in bed until the afternoon. So she'd braved the cold, windy London weather, wrapping them both up so much it was a surprise they could even move their bodies. Matty had squirmed a little when she put him in his pram, but as soon as they were out in the fresh air, the indignities of being mauled about by his mother were soon forgotten, as he stared wide-eyed at the sky, seeing wonder in the movements of birds, and branches, and the sound of the city

For three hours she had walked the streets, pushing Matty along the Embankment, trying to show his short-sighted eyes the beauty of the Thames. Then, knowing she was so close to Chelsea, she felt drawn to Cheyne Walk, at first telling herself she'd just show Matty where his grandparents lived. As she crossed Albert Bridge, she could feel her heart clench with the desperation to see Matty lying in Esme's arms, his little body being embraced by his doting grandmother.

The need burned in her. She could only liken it to the way an addict must have felt when they needed their next hit. And like an addict, she began to construct all kinds of lies and half-truths in her mind, to try to get what she needed. She was going to knock at the door, say she was in London for a couple of days, and introduce them to Matty as Kate's new baby. She'd get Esme to hold him while she went to the bathroom, and then she'd at least get to see him lying in his grandmother's arms. Her determination to see this vision come to life propelled her along the final streets, her gait determined as she came within shouting distance of the house.

Then she came to an abrupt halt. Standing just outside the Cullens' front door, carrying a few boxes down to a black, sleek car, was a tall, thin version of the man she loved. He was so caught up with balancing the boxes in his strong arms, that he didn't notice a girl and a pram a few hundred yards away. Almost immediately Bella had ducked behind a tree, pulling Matty to her side, her pulse racing as she watched him.

He'd lost weight, that much was evident by the clothes he was wearing. Despite the coldness of the day, Edward was dressed only in a pair of jeans and a shirt, the pants hanging off his hips a little too well. Bella glanced back at the house, wondering if Lauren was inside, whether in a moment she'd see him carrying her out, placing her into the car with a look of love in his eyes.

She watched the house for more than a minute. Edward came and went a couple of times, and then she saw Carlisle carrying out a suitcase, putting it in the trunk with the other boxes. Neither Esme, Alice or Lauren were evident amongst this hive of activity, and eventually Bella slowly turned her back on her family and walked back down to the embankment, tears streaming down her face.

That was over a year ago, now, and she still woke up, regret tasting like blood in her mouth, wondering what would have happened if she'd wheeled Matty over to see them. Having only a small family herself, she wanted to give her baby the world, to let him have a whole host of people who loved and cared for him. She was grateful for Jasper, and Kate, and all the friends she'd made in Nice, but she was so desperate for him to have blood relatives.

Instead she just smothered him with love.

. . .

It was still light when a car drew up outside the villa. Bella was bathing Matty, watching as he punched his hands in the shallow water, splashing her white blouse, giggling at her response. Occasionally she'd lift up the towel and hide him behind it, until he put his little fingers on top of it and pulled it down, and she'd shout out 'peep-ho'.

"You here?" Jasper called out at her from the hallway.

"Bathroom," she shouted back, her face covered with a grin. "It's a bit of a disaster in here."

She heard Jasper's steady footsteps beating on the wooden floor as he ran down the hall, within a moment the bathroom door had flung open and he was standing in front of her, an inane smile moulding his lips.

"Matty boy!" He leaned over the bath and squeezed Matthew, who smashed his fists in the water in protest. Jasper's expensive, black t-shirt was soaked.

Bella bit her lip in an attempt to quell her laughter. Matty looked a little perturbed, both by the break in routine and Jasper's over-enthusiastic hug. He was getting funny about strangers, and people he didn't see very often. Bella hoped it was just a phase.

"Hey Jasper." Bella stood and hugged him, feeling the wetness of his t-shirt soak through to her blouse. "How was your flight?"

"Tiring. I spent most of it asleep." As if to confirm his exhaustion, he rubbed as his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"I bet your friend loved that."

"My friend?"

"Whoever it is you brought with you? The one I've prepared dinner for," Bella hinted.

"You mean Alice." Jasper laughed, and the words made Bella's blood run cold.

"Alice, as in Cullen?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You've brought Alice here?"

Jasper put out a hand and rubbed the top of her arm. "It's a long story; there are a few things you need to talk about."

"I'd say there is," an American voice drawled.

Bella looked up to see Alice standing in the doorway. It wasn't only her voice that had been influenced by her two years in New York; Alice looked well-groomed and chic, wearing a pair of expensive, skinny jeans, and a t-shirt that Bella had seen on sale in a boutique in Nice for around eighty euros. Her hair had been cut into a silky, shoulder-length bob. Bella felt unsophisticated in comparison.

"You said you'd wait until I'd spoken to her," Jasper admonished, walking over to her and curling his arm around her waist. "This isn't going to be any easier if you're at each other's throats."

The familiar constriction in Bella's blood vessels immediately caused her to breathe heavily, the panic making her unable to inhale as much oxygen as she needed. She felt betrayed—by Jasper—and afraid that now the dam had been opened, the cozy little life she had built for Matty and herself was being threatened by those she missed the most.

"Alice, I'm so—"

Matty splashed the water again, this time enough to get water on Alice's designer top. Bella watched as a smile broke out over Alice's face, her features softening as she looked at Matty.

"He's beautiful."

Bella just nodded, not sure if she should say anything to Alice or not.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about him, Bella. I can't understand why you didn't trust me. We're supposed to be friends, Jesus you're my best friend, and all this time you've been emailing me with stories of reclusive artists and hard-written stories." The anger was written all over Alice's face.

"I am kind of reclusive." Jasper pointed out, earning a slap in the arm from Alice.

"Don't think I'm done with you either," Alice shook her head at him.

"It's not Jasper's fault. I asked him not to tell anybody."

"He told the fucking world, Bella. He wrote a song about your son, for God's sake." Alice's face fell again, "Yours and Edward's son."

Bella didn't bother to deny it. The resemblance was growing along with Matty. His newborn dark hair had fallen out, to be replaced by Edward's burnished brown tones. Only his eyes resembled Bella's.

"Can I just get Matty ready for bed?" she implored, pulling her wet, wriggling son out of the bath, wrapping him snugly in a white, fluffy towel. "We can talk when he's asleep."

Alice's gaze remained on her nephew, her eyes gentle as she watched him chew at the towel, his eyes never leaving Bella's face. "Sure. I'm going to go unpack. You've got half an hour."

. . .

Matty still slept in a cot, although recently he had started to try and swing his leg over the top. Bella knew the crib's days were numbered, and she already had her eye on a cute racing car bed, painted red like Matty's favorite Disney character. He was almost asleep as she sat with him on the chair, zipped in a tiny sleeping bag, finishing the cup of warm milk she had given him. His whole body relaxed against her, and she could feel his breathing slow, until it reached the cadence of sleep. Only then did she lift him up and place him in his cot, switching on the nightlight and monitor, before padding out of the nursery and gently pulling the door closed behind her.

She was dreading this. Part of her was so angry with Jasper, for putting her in this position without any warning. But mostly she was furious with herself. The position she'd put Jasper in was untenable, particularly if he'd been reconnecting with Alice, and to ask him to lie to her was completely unfair.

Bella walked into the open-plan living room. The evening sun was orange, slowly creeping towards the horizon. It lit the room with an amber glow, reflecting from Jasper and Alice's skin so they looked almost other-worldly. She watched them for a moment, as they sat close together, heads bent toward each other as they talked. How long had this been going on? They looked way too cozy for two people who had hooked up in the past few days in London.

"Hey, would you like a glass of wine?" Jasper stood up and approached her, wearing a conciliatory smile. She attempted a wan smile back, trying to convey that they were okay.

"I'd love a glass of Sancerre." She'd actually love the bottle, but she wasn't going to win any mother of the year awards with that attitude.

Jasper left the room and Alice stood up, her face looking suddenly youthful in the dull evening light. Bella felt the pull before Alice even moved, and within moments they were in each other's arms, a mess of tears and recriminations, hugs and anger.

They were like sisters. The underlying love pinned them together no matter what.

"I'm so mad at you." Alice sobbed into Bella's shoulder. "I need you to tell me why." Bella lifted Alice's face, kissing her cheek, feeling their tears intermingle. The lump in her throat grew so big she was finding it hard to speak.

"I—" Bella stopped herself, trying to think how to explain her actions. "When I found out I was pregnant, I called Edward to tell him. Elizabeth picked up his phone and told me about Lauren."

"About Lauren?" Alice clarified.

"About her not being able to walk, after the accident." They were both breathing a little easier now, and Bella took Alice's hand and led her to the sofa. They sat down, knees touching, and continued to talk.

"Lauren can walk." Alice was perplexed. "She couldn't at first, after the accident, but she was soon up and okay."

Bella shook her head. "No, Elizabeth told me she was confined to a wheelchair for life. That's why I didn't tell Edward, because I couldn't bear for him to leave her for me."

Alice was as still as a statue. "That's not true."

"I did!" Bella protested. "I called and I was going to tell him."

"I mean the part about Lauren. That was a lie. Elizabeth lied to you."

_Panic_.

Why the hell would Elizabeth lie to her about Lauren's ability to walk? It didn't make sense, unless she was trying to keep Bella and Edward apart. Which would mean her sacrifice—not to mention that of Matty and Edward—was all big, fat lie. The thought sickened her to the pit of her stomach. All those months of being alone, raising a child without a father was for nothing. _Nothing._

What the hell was she going to do? She'd lied to Edward by omission, thinking it was for the best, but really she'd stolen his son away from him. There was no way he'd ever forgive her for that.

And there was no way Bella would ever forgive Elizabeth. She wanted to scratch her eyes out, scream at what her careless words had done. The bitch had stolen all of their futures.

Bella shook her head, the tears flooding from her eyes. "No."

"Yes. Lauren's perfectly able to walk. She walked right out of Edward's life." Alice's face was a mix of anger and sympathy. It was killing her.

"No!" Bella screamed. "I didn't tell him about Matty so he could spend his life with her."

"Bella, he finished things with Lauren nearly two years ago. He came to London and found you were gone. He was so angry; I can't even tell you what it was like. I was so scared he was going to break something, or himself. I didn't dare tell him that we were still in touch by email."

Bella wasn't sure if she was going to vomit, or if she really needed that drink. Where the hell was Jasper with her wine? She hoped he brought the bottle. If only she'd tried to call Edward again, or spoken to Alice and let her know. She could be with him now, watching him play with his son, maybe rolling him a baseball or teaching him to kick a ball. God, she was so desperate to go back and change everything.

"I saw him," she whispered. "Boxing Day 2010, I saw him coming out of the house at Cheyne Walk. He looked so thin."

"He kept forgetting to eat. Esme managed to fatten him up again." Alice sat back heavily on the cream leather sofa. "Jesus, Bella. What a mess."

"He's not with Lauren anymore?" Bella felt the need to clarify. She wasn't sure what she wanted the answer to be. Either way she was in bits.

"No. He's not with anyone that I know of. Not that he talks to me about that sort of thing, even though I've been staying with him while I'm at Columbia."

"That's nice, that you two reconnected." Bella's responses were automatic now. The thinking part of her brain was still firmly stuck in Manhattan, in a penthouse apartment. She could almost see Matty running along the expensive wooden floor, his face lit up as Daddy came home after a day's work. Another sob escaped Bella's throat, as she realized this was a scene she would never get to see.

"It's been amazing." Alice's eyes flashed with happy memories.

"I need to tell him." Bella's voice was scratchy and raw, like she had been crying all night. "I need to speak to Edward."

Jasper walked in carrying a bottle of wine and three glasses.

"Is it safe to come in yet?" he asked, putting the glasses on the wooden coffee table, pouring the cold, pale wine into them.

"We haven't scratched each other's eyes out, if that's what you're asking." Alice grabbed Bella's hand and squeezed tightly. "Now we just need to talk about how you're going to explain all this before you speak to him."

Bella was still numb, unable to mold her thoughts into anything resembling sense. She let Alice take the lead, letting herself submit to her friend's suggestions.

"I'm not sure if he'll even talk to you, Bella," Alice confessed. "On the rare occasion your name is mentioned, he usually just leaves the room."

Bella's heart dropped. Of course he must hate her. Her last words to him, when they saw each other in New York, were a promise she would wait for him. No wonder he was so angry when he got to London and she was gone.

Again.

Would he hate Matty too? Her heart clenched at the thought of anybody despising her little boy. Matthew was the perfect combination of them both, in looks as well as temperament, and Edward would clearly be able to see Bella's half shining through.

Either way, she couldn't put it off any longer. It wasn't her choice to make. She wanted to call him right now, spill the truth over the phone as soon as possible to make up for lost time. But it wasn't the sort of news you gave when you were thousands of miles away.

"I can't tell him over the phone. I'll have to fly to New York." She was already thinking about the transatlantic flight in her mind. "I'm not sure how Matty will take to that though." Bella could picture her son running up and down the aisle, screaming at the other passengers. The vision made her shudder.

"Leave him here, with us," Alice suggested. "I'm desperate to get to know my nephew, and I know from his song that Jasper's already in love."

"Matty doesn't take too kindly to me leaving him," Bella wavered. She could see the sense in Alice's suggestion.

"Give us a couple of weeks to bond with him. If you think we're up to the job, then you can fly to New York, tell Edward and fly right back here. I promise we'll treat him like a king." Alice's voice betrayed her excitement. Bella softened as she saw Jasper staring at her younger friend, his eyes alive as he watched her closely.

"Will Edward even agree to see me?" Bella wondered, knowing her words were tantamount to an agreement. Alice leaned forward and hugged her tightly, her loud squeal making Bella wince.

"Probably not," Alice replied. "But I'll call and make an appointment with him in my name. You can go and tell him at work. At least if he's surrounded by people he can't go completely crazy."

It seemed like Alice had everything planned in her mind. In a couple of weeks, Bella would be catching a plane to New York. Fear fought with excitement in her stomach, mixing with the alcohol she was knocking back. The thought of seeing Edward again, made her legs shake.

She would do it because he deserved to know about his son. She would do it because Matty deserved to have a father. Most of all, she would do it because she loved them both so much, she thought her heart might burst.

* * *

**A/N Thank you to SunflowerFran and SparrowNotes24 - I love you ladies and appreciate all your hard work!  
**

**And thanks to those who read, and for all the reviews - you guys are amazing.**

**Next chapter will be up at the weekend. See you then! Choc xx  
**


	35. Chapter 34

**Fix You Chapter 34**

**12****th**** May 2012**

It was early afternoon when the plane touched down at JFK, the landing bumpy enough to make her already-queasy stomach lurch hard. For the first time ever, in all of her transatlantic trips, Bella was distinctly aware of her own mortality, and the fears of what would happen to Matty if she died played havoc with her thought patterns. The free drinks and snacks weren't enough to take her mind off it.

_All the more reason to tell Edward,_ the snarky part of her brain informed her, before Bella quashed the thought.

Even her own psyche was against her.

She hadn't bothered checking in any baggage. Her return flight was booked for the following day, and carry-on luggage would be enough to take care of her basic needs. Toiletries, makeup and a change of clothes were all she required until she could step foot in France again.

The queue at immigration moved faster than she'd anticipated. Each step towards the glass booth was a step closer to telling Edward the most shocking news of his life, and Bella felt the need to dawdle, to prevaricate. She fiddled with her dark-blue passport, wondering if she would have been better off using her European one. The queue was so much longer on that side of the room.

She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the way Alice had hugged her before she left the villa in Nice. Her words of encouragement, whispered in Bella's ear, were enough to plant a seed of hope that eventually Edward might forgive her for running yet again. She hadn't had time to nurture the seed yet; to let it bloom into any kind of plant. She hoped she wouldn't kill it.

"You've been out of the country for a while ma'am?" The immigration officer was tapping into his computer with his right hand, staring at Bella's passport, held open by his left.

"I have joint nationality. I've been living in Europe."

"Are you planning to stay for a while?" He glanced up at her, his eyes inquiring.

"Just until tomorrow. I'm meeting with a friend."

The officer closed her passport and handed it back to her. "I hope you have a nice stay, ma'am." His eyes were already on the next passenger. Bella picked up her bag and moved forward through the barrier. She could feel time counting down like a ticker clock on New Year's Eve; the thought made her excited and fearful.

Bypassing the luggage carousel, she made her way to the door leading into the main terminal. The air conditioning made her skin pucker with goose bumps, but from the look of the sun shining through the glass wall of the terminal, it was a beautiful, New York spring day. If she closed her eyes, it could almost be 2010 again, before she slept with Edward; before Matty. She could never regret having her son, though, so she quashed that thought and exited the airport resolutely.

Standing in the line for a taxi, she practiced their conversation in her mind. _Tell him as soon as possible_, she reminded herself, _if you beat around the bush he's either going to throw you out or kill you. _The news that he had a son was like a Band-Aid, and for Edward's own sake, she needed to rip it off fast, and then deal with the scab underneath. To tear it away inch by inch wouldn't save them any misery in the long run.

This was going to hurt.

She reached the start of the line, climbing into the yellow taxi, pulling her bag in with her. The black vinyl seat was cold against her skin, and her eyes automatically met the driver's in his rear-view mirror.

"Where to?"

"Financial district. Corner of Pine and Nassau."

"Black Enterprises?" the driver clarified.

"Yes, that's correct." Bella prayed that Alice had managed to sort out her security pass as promised. If she had to call up to Heidi to get it sorted out, Bella had the feeling she might bolt.

The journey was mercifully long. The streets were a tangle of cars and trucks, fumes angrily pumping out as vehicles remained stationary. She sat back and listened to the music pumping out of the cab's stereo system, allowing the regular rhythm to calm her heartbeat. In the years since she'd been here last, it looked like the taxis had been upgraded, there was a screen showing her their exact location, occasionally interrupted by advertisements for local companies. Their slow progress was clear to see as she followed the flashing red dot along the streets.

It was gone 3 p.m. local time when the cab pulled up on Pine. Bella handed the driver thirty dollars, telling him to keep the change, and then opened the door, stepping out onto the street. The sounds didn't seem as jarring as they used to—perhaps her year of living here had inured her to the cacophony. The familiar smell of exhaust fumes and food carts assaulted her nose in a delicious way.

Security was surprisingly easy. Her name was on the list, and a pass had already been printed for her; she must remember to thank Alice for that. She clipped it to the waistband of her jeans and headed for the bathroom, needing to give herself one final glance-over before she went up to his office. Her appointment was for 3.30 p.m., in Alice's name, less than fifteen minutes away.

When she emerged from the bathroom—make-up lightly touched-up and hair calmed—Bella made her way toward the bank of elevators at the corner of the lobby. She'd been here a few times before; when she was dating Edward before her mom died, and then later, when she was living in Manhattan. This time felt different. The walls seemed closer together, the elevator more ominous. Maybe it was Bella that had changed, rather than the building.

A momentary pause outside the door to the outer office, and a deep breath to bolster her resolve, was enough to give her some strength. She squared her shoulders, reaching her hand out to push the handle down, rearranging her features into a neutral, unreadable expression. Then she walked in.

"Bella?" Heidi's face indicated her confusion. The other two administrators in the room glanced up, their keyboard-tapping momentarily paused as their faces betrayed their interest. They must have been new; Bella didn't recognize them.

"Heidi, how are you?" She'd always liked Edward's PA.

"I'm good thank you. And you?"

Bella tried to smile. "Fine. Is he available?"

"He's in meetings all afternoon. I don't think he was expecting you." Heidi's response was polite as always. Her expression indicated her regret.

"I'm his three-thirty. Alice booked the appointment for me."

"Oh, that will explain it. I'll let him know you're here."

Bella wanted to back right out of the room and hot-foot it to JFK. Was she ready for this? She hadn't seen him in over a year, hadn't spoken to him in more than two. Everything about the situation made her nerves tingle. The light feeling of nausea that swirled around her stomach intensified. If she wasn't careful, she was going to be sick.

_You can do this,_ she reminded herself. _Tell him the news, give him a chance to digest it._

She wasn't going to panic; she wasn't going to lose control. Bella kept her breathing steady, even as her heart began to race. The last thing she needed was to collapse in his outer-office.

"You can go in." Heidi's voice brought her back to the present.

"Can I leave my bag here?" Bella indicated her small carry-on bag. Heidi took it with a smile, and gestured towards Edward's door.

This was it.

Was she ready? Would she ever be? The only thing she knew for sure was that she owed it to Edward, and to Matty, to tell him the truth. She'd just have to deal with the fallout. One foot in front of the other, she crossed the room until she reached his door, her eyes caressing the familiar dark oak, fingers reaching out to let herself in.

Bella pushed the door open, the hinges creaking lightly under the pressure. The room had been redecorated at some point in the past year, the cream walls repainted a paler white, the furniture replaced with sleeker, modern lines. It made her a little sad to realize that life had gone on without her. Goodness only knew how Edward would react when he discovered just how life had continued without him. Continued and multiplied.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Edward was leaning on his desk, ankles crossed, his arms folded firmly in front of his chest. His suit jacket hung on a stand behind him, and though she tried not to look, she couldn't help but follow the lines of his clothes all the way down his body.

He had filled out nicely since she had last seen him, over a year ago. The thin cotton of his shirt clung to his biceps, skimming his taut abdomen as it tucked into his dress pants. His hips were still lean, and tight, and she closed her eyes as she tried not to remember how they had felt between her thighs, as he had moved inside her, breathing softly in her ear, as she had moaned and whimpered and—

She shook her head. She wasn't standing in his large, oak-panelled office just to take a trip down memory lane, as pleasant as that might be. She had flown here, over three thousand miles, to tell him what he deserved to know.

Inappropriate laughter bubbled up in her throat as she considered the ridiculous melodrama of the situation. Her seventeen year old self would be rolling her eyes, wondering how this twenty-nine year old woman had managed to turn a seemingly promising life into a soap opera.

She glanced up at his face, looking at his lips, which had turned down into a deep scowl. His eyes had narrowed beneath his bronze brows, and his straight, patrician, nose was slightly crinkled in response to her presence.

The contempt he felt towards her was radiating off of him.

Bella tried to keep her breathing steady, reminding herself that although she was in _his_ office, on the penthouse floor of _his_ building, this was _her_ show.

She was in control.

Because truth be told, if he viewed her with contempt now, God only knew how he would feel once he'd heard what she had to say. He had been a large part of her life for so long—as a friend, a confidante, even a lover—but never before did he have the power to break her.

"As nice as it is to see you," he drawled, the tone of his voice making it patently clear that her presence in his office was anything but nice, "I have a meeting in five minutes. Exactly what is it that you want?"

He had no idea, but this was it. Time to open her mouth and tell him what he needed to hear. Her arms suddenly felt tingly, her fingers moving as if they could no longer remain still; a physical manifestation of her nervousness. The laughter in her throat had been replaced by something more unsettling, as she tried to take in a deep breath and form the words that she needed to say.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. She watched his gaze move down to her mouth, staring at it with dark eyes, as her teeth drew in her bottom lip.

"Edward." Her voice was surprisingly strong. She could do this. She could tell him the truth, and then get the hell out of here.

Back on a plane.

Back home.

Back to _him_.

"Edward, we had a baby."

The silence that followed was palpable, and Bella could almost taste Edward's confusion as she watched the expressions flit across his face. She had done what she came here to do—had told him the truth—and now she was preparing herself for the fallout.

Edward remained frozen, and Bella wondered for a moment if she should repeat herself. She wasn't even sure if he had understood. Her feet shuffled beneath her, wanting to move toward him, to get her close enough to touch his face.

That kind of thought was dangerous.

"We _had_ a baby?" he repeated, and Bella realized her mistake. In her desperation to get the news out, she really hadn't thought her words through.

"We _have_ a baby, well he's a toddler now, but he was a baby. Once." Damn it, she was babbling now, her nerves shining through. It took every ounce of effort she had to meet his eyes, her body recoiling when she saw the anger and confusion radiating from them.

"What the fuck is going on?" He frowned, the deep creases in his forehead emerging as he tried to absorb her news. "I don't understand what you're saying."

She realized she needed to show him proof, rather than try to explain. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to control herself enough to pull her cell from her pocket, trying to steady her fingers as she pulled up her photos.

"When I left New York in 2010, I was pregnant. I didn't realize it then, in fact I didn't find out for a few months, but the last time we were together, we made a baby." Her voice lingered over the final words. She still found the fact amazing.

"Are you certain he's mine?"

Edward's question was legitimate, but it still cut her to the quick. "Absolutely."

The momentary silence was like a wall between the two of them. Bella wondered if she would ever be able to breach it. She wanted to continue, to give him all the information he required to process this new reality. She wished she could hold Matty in her arms right now. She needed his presence to ground her.

"His name is Matthew, he was born on November twelfth. He's around eighteen months old." She moved forward to show Edward a photograph on her iPhone, picking one she took a couple of days before. Matty was standing up in Jasper's living room, holding a ball as he attempted to throw it to Alice. His joy at playing with his aunt was written all over his face; and he was biting his lip in concentration.

"That's him?" Edward's voice was dead. "That's my son?"

Bella nodded, the lump in her throat preventing her from speaking. She'd dreamed of this moment, so many times, and his lack of emotion was killing her. Then a moment later, as she saw Edward's face twist with anger, she longed for his previous, calm demeanour.

"I need to get out of this room. Stay here," he spat, not giving her an option, as he stalked over to the door that led to the outer office and wrenched it open. When he slammed it behind him, she heard a lock turn.

He'd locked her in.

He trusted her so little, he was so sure she'd run, that he felt he had to lock her in. She couldn't even blame him.

Or perhaps he was trying to protect her. The next moment she heard something being thrown across the outer office, and the loud vibration of his voice as he shouted, followed by Heidi's gentler tone, murmuring to him.

Bella walked to the dark-brown leather sofa by the large, picture window and sat down, fingers tapping on the iPhone she still held in her hand.

_**I've told him**_. She sent the text to Alice.

Within moments, Alice had sent a reply. _**How did he take it?**_

_**He's locked me in his office.**_

_**Are you okay? Is he okay?**_ Bless Alice, she always supported them both.

_**He's left the room. I'm fine. I think he's throwing furniture around.**_

A few minutes later, Bella heard the door unlock, and then saw Heidi's face appear as she pushed it open.

"How are you doing, Bella?"

Bella tried not to smile. Everybody was asking her the question they should ask Edward. She was fine. A little shaken; very worried, but fine.

"Is Edward all right?"

"He's a little angry. It's none of my business, but I think I got the gist. I told him to get some fresh air and come back when he's calmed down." Behind Heidi, Bella could see the debris over the floor, where Edward had thrown office equipment. "Can I get you a drink while you wait for him?"

"I'd love a glass of water, thanks Heidi." She hadn't realized how dry her mouth was until Heidi had offered. The confrontation had sucked all the moisture from her.

It took more than twenty minutes for Edward to come back to the office. While she waited, Bella texted Alice a few times, learning that Edward had been speaking with his sister on the phone, and seemed calmer than before. Bella braced herself anyway, when the door opened, afraid of what side of Edward she might see.

"I'm sorry I locked you in." His first words calmed her. "I needed to get out before I caused any damage."

"I'm the one that should be apologizing."

Edward ignored her expression of regret. "I've asked Heidi to book us on the first flight to France. There's a plane leaving tonight."

"I've got a flight booked for tomorrow—," she began to protest, but Edward waved her off.

"It's done. Maybe while I wait for my luggage to be dropped off you can give me a few answers." He moved toward her, sitting down on the leather chair opposite her. In the glare of the afternoon sun his features seemed sharper. She felt the strangest urge to trace the line of his jaw with her finger.

"I'd be happy to." She was pleased he was still speaking to her, and that he wanted to see their son.

Edward leaned back, running his hands through his hair. "Why didn't you tell me? Was it in retaliation for me staying with Lauren while she got better? Because that's pretty fucking low." His words tumbled together, and Bella could feel each one pierce her heart.

She shook her head rapidly. "I wanted to tell you. I didn't find out until I was four months pregnant. As soon as I had the scan I called you." She picked up the glass of water and knocked it back. "Your mother answered. She told me that Lauren was consigned to a wheelchair for life, and that you were looking after her."

Edward's hand was still in his hair, now tugging rather than smoothing. She resisted the urge to pull his arm down.

"My mother said _what_?" His voice was pure ice.

"She said Lauren was never going to walk again, that she would be stuck in a wheelchair forever."

"Why would she say that?" he asked disbelievingly.

Bella's heart felt like it was being squeezed by a vice. She was so scared he'd believe Elizabeth over her. Why wouldn't he?

"I don't know." She shook her head. "But I believed her." Bella wanted to go back in time, relive that telephone conversation and ask Elizabeth more pointed questions. But she'd been so emotional at the time, reeling from the discovery that she was pregnant, desperate to talk to Edward and tell him the news. Elizabeth had taken advantage and cut her off before she'd even begun.

"You don't know." His voice had taken on that dead tone again. She was finding it so hard to read him. His face was like a mask. "So why didn't you call me again?"

Bella sighed, licking her dry lips. "Because if I told you I was pregnant you would have left Lauren. I couldn't do that to her, I couldn't do that to you. I thought that she was paralyzed and that she needed you. I knew it would tear you in two to decide between us."

"It was all a lie," he whispered, his previous stoic face overrun by emotion. He was giving her whiplash. "My mother lied."

"She didn't know I was pregnant." Bella's voice wavered, and she could feel the tears pricking at her eyes. "I should have told you."

"I can't even tell you how fucked up I am right now. I'm so angry at my mother, and at you, I'm even furious Alice got to meet my son before I did. If you weren't the mother of my child, I'd probably want to kill you." He pushed himself out of his seat, pacing the dark wooden floor. "I still do."

Bella could feel herself shaking again. His frame of mind was swinging all over the place, and she could understand why. If she'd just found out about a child, eighteen months after the fact, she'd be pretty damn angry too. Not to mention confused, and frightened.

She tried to calm things down. "You said you had questions, as in plural?"

"What's his full name?"

This was going to hurt, she thought. "Matthew Edward Swan."

"You named him after me?"

"I couldn't give him your surname, so I gave him your first name. Matthew means 'Gift from God'." She allowed a small sigh to escape her lips. "He truly is a gift, Edward."

"Is he healthy? Is he happy?" His words shot out like bullets.

Her heart clenched. Even in the most emotional turmoil of his life, he was asking about the well-being of others. She tried to quench the love for him that was threatening to spill out of her.

"He's perfectly healthy. He's had all his immunizations. There have been a few falls, and bruises, but nothing major." She tried to smile at him. "He's the happiest kid you could ever meet. He's always smiling, loves playing games. When I walk into the house after I've been out, the sweetest, most beautiful grin seems to split his face in two." She was waxing lyrical now, but on a roll. "And he's so clever. He can already string two or three words together, and he was walking before he was a year. You'll love him."

The rapt expression on Edward's face told her that he already did.

"I need to see him." His voice cracked. "I can't believe this is happening."

Bella wanted to reach out and touch him. The maelstrom of emotions was clearly taking its toll on Edward, and she was desperate to help. "I'm so sorry; I wish you could have been there when he was born."

"Was it an easy birth?" He stopped pacing, moved back to sit with her. This time he was beside her, and it gave her a spark of hope.

"It felt like he was ripping me in two, but he was worth all the pain. The moment they put him in my arms I realized I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

"Have you got any pictures, of when he was a baby?"

"All the newborn ones are in an album at home, I mean in France. I've got a few of when he was crawling." She scrolled through her phone and showed the photos to Edward. He looked at them all, his eyes lit up as he regarded his son.

"He's beautiful," he whispered.

"I can't wait for you to meet him."

"Alice let me listen to him on the phone. He said your name."

Bella swallowed, her smile eclipsed by the tears as she thought about Matty. She missed him so much it hurt. Her arms ached from his absence. She reached up and wiped her damp cheeks.

"He's such a clever boy."

The door opened and Heidi put her head around the space. "Jack's here with your luggage. Do you want to go straight down?"

"Yes." Edward's reply was crisp. He walked over to his desk and booted down his computer, packing up his laptop along with some files. As he zipped up the bag, he turned to Bella. "Have you got Wi-Fi at your place in France?"

Bella nodded, wondering just how long Edward was intending to stay. Then she started to worry about his intentions. He couldn't remain in France forever. Was he going to try and take Matty away from her? He had every right to request joint custody, no matter how much it would break her heart. If she'd thought her life was complicated before, it was nothing compared to what the future would bring.

But she could deal with complications, if that was what it took to let her son and his father build a relationship. Nothing else mattered.

Edward walked past her, into the outer-office and picked up her bag, hoisting it over his shoulder. Bella trailed after him, her heart still racing as she thought about the future. Part of her was so excited that she'd see Matty in less than a day's time. The other half was so afraid she was finding it hard to breathe.

It remained to be seen, whether the hardest part was over yet.

* * *

**A/N Fix You has been nominated for Fic of The Week at www dot tehlemonadestand dot net. If you have some spare moments, I'd really appreciate your vote. And many thanks to Nic for reccing it!**

**Lots of love and thanks to SunflowerFran and SparrowNotes24 for all their help.**

**And thanks to those who read, and for all the reviews - I always love hearing what you think.**

**Next chapter will be up at the weekend. See you then! Choc**


	36. Chapter 35

**Fix You Chapter 35**

**May 2012**

Edward leaned back in the leather seat, glancing over at the small, round window of the airplane, noticing they were finally over land. The patchwork of fields far below was enough for him to know they were flying over Europe; even from the sky it was so very different to the US. Smaller, prettier, it somehow suited the temperament of its inhabitants.

One of which, was his son.

_His son._

He could repeat the words over and again in his mind, but they weren't sinking in. For the first time ever, he had taken a pill before getting on the plane—enough to calm his edgy nerves, and to stop him from wanting to alternately kiss and kill Bella Swan. She was asleep next to him, her long mahogany hair splayed out over the headrest of the seat. Two transatlantic flights in less than twenty-four hours had clearly knocked it out of her, and the exhaustion was written across her beautiful face.

He glanced back down at his open laptop, scanning his eyes over the emails he had downloaded before getting on the plane. When he'd asked Heidi to book them on this flight, she'd automatically cancelled and rearranged all of his meetings, though it looked like he'd have to do some via video-conference. He hoped to hell Bella's Wi-Fi was up to the challenge.

Another surge of rational anger swept through him. His face contorted as he tried to control the fury as his hands balled into desperate fists. He couldn't look at her, couldn't think about what she had done without wanting to cause her pain. It was killing him.

A stifled sob brought him out of the red cloud, and he turned his head to see Bella had woken up. She was staring at him, her hand covering her mouth, cheeks shiny with tears. His anger abated, replaced by concern, and he cursed his alternating moods.

He wasn't going to reach out and wipe away her tears. Not this time. Not even if his hand was already hovering, desperate to touch her cheek.

"I'm so sorry." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "You look so angry."

Edward took a deep breath. This was no place to have this conversation, no matter how desperate Bella was to be absolved. The overhead lights were dimmed, but the constant movements of the stewardesses, and the numerous travellers who were walking down the aisle to the bathroom made their cocoon anything but private. The recriminations would have to wait, until they'd landed in France, until they were alone in the villa.

Until he had met his child.

The seatbelt light illuminated over their heads, followed by an announcement from the head steward that they were beginning their descent. Edward stared out of the window again, amazed at the beauty of the land below, his eyes pierced by the bright white light of the morning sun. New York already seemed so far behind, like a city of dreams.

"I've arranged for a car to pick us up from the airport." He tried to keep his voice conversational. Being in close proximity to her was such a bad idea. Every emotion it was possible to suffer seemed to pass through him whenever he looked at her. He tried his hardest not to.

"Thank you."

"Alice and Jasper are going to meet us at the Villa. After that they're travelling to Monaco for a few days. It will give us a chance to sort things out," he told her.

He could feel Bella tense up. Her arm was milimeters away from his, and he watched as her fingers tapped nervously on the leather rest. He damped down the urge to curl his hand around hers, to rub his thumb along her knuckles until she calmed.

"They're leaving?" she asked, her voice tremulous. "I was hoping to spend a little time with Alice."

Edward shook his head, his stare still direct at her hand. "I want some time with my son, away from everybody else."

Another barely contained sob. He didn't need to look at her to know she was biting her lip. He knew everything about this girl; the way she laughed, the way she cried. The way she lied.

The plane was getting lower in the sky, and he could feel his ears numb as they tried to adjust to the altitude. Bella reached forward and grabbed a bottle of water from the cup holder and started to gulp rapidly. He'd forgotten how sensitive her ear canals were, but now he could remember in stark resolution those few flights they took together from New York to London, and how he'd stroke her hair as she swallowed desperately, trying to equalise the pressure in her head.

He licked his dry lips. He wasn't going to look at her.

Her hand lifted away from the arm rest, and he assumed she was grabbing at her ear. His gaze followed the wake of her movement until he was looking at her thick, wavy hair, glowing almost red in the reflection of the bright light streaming through the porthole of the plane. Her hand was curled around her ear, and when he moved his eyes to look at her face he could see it contorted with pain.

"Come here." He pulled her head against his, threading his fingers through her locks. He massaged her scalp in a long forgotten rhythm, feeling her relax against him as he continued to caress.

She was still crying. Her tears were falling on to his shirt, moistening it where her cheeks touched him. The heel of his palm touched her other cheek, wiping it dry as he moved his hand against her.

"Thank you," she whispered into his chest. He wasn't sure what she was grateful for—the human decency of trying to quell her pain, the fact he'd finally touched her, or maybe the hope they could find a way through this mess and come out on the other side with a level of amiability. Perhaps all three.

. . .

They had separated at passport control; Bella having to go through the European side, while he remained with the herd of people trying to make their way through 'rest of the world.' She waited for him by baggage reclaim; she'd even picked his bags from the carousel and placed them on a waiting trolley. Their interactions had reverted to being excruciatingly polite.

The journey took under an hour. It was a bright spring day; the fields were full of greenery and the roads were full of small, noisy cars, barely obeying the rules of driving. Every now and then a tiny car, usually a Renault or Citroen, would swerve around their taxi and Bella would flinch a little, as if she had a heightened awareness of her own mortality.

When they pulled up to Jasper's house, Edward felt his mouth drop open a little. When Bella had called it a 'villa', he had imagined a quaint country cottage, maybe two or three bedrooms complete with peeling white paint and rotting wooden shutters. Instead the villa was more of a palace, and even for someone like Edward who was used to wealth and property, it kicked him in the stomach to know his son was growing up within these walls. He was jealous.

The fare had already been paid by Heidi, so the driver climbed out and unloaded Edward's suitcases from the trunk, passing Bella her small carry-on with a wry smile. Edward lifted all three bags and they walked together toward the front door, both silent, drowning under the weight of their own thoughts. It wasn't until they reached the entrance that Bella broke the silence.

"How do you want to do this?" She sounded more confident again, as if being on home turf was giving her the advantage. "Shall I introduce you as a friend? Not that Matty will understand, he's only little, but I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm his father, Bella," Edward spat, the anger returning. "Perhaps we can start as we mean to go on?"

Bella swallowed and nodded. "Okay. But he doesn't always warm up to strangers immediately. You need to give him a bit of time. Don't get upset if he doesn't come to you right away."

Before he had a chance to respond, the door was pulled open in front of them. Edward looked up to see Jasper standing there, a huge grin on his face and a small child in his arms, wriggling with desperate excitement.

"He couldn't wait any longer, Bella. He was running for the door."

Edward tried to bite back the jealousy as Matty reached his arms out for his mother, babbling wildly. Bella grabbed him and held him tight, burying her face in his hair, telling him how much she missed him.

_She missed him?_

_How the hell did she think Edward felt?_

As if she could hear his thoughts, Bella lifted her head up and looked at Edward, her lips curling into a smile. She turned slightly, so he could see Matty's face, and every ounce of anger brewing in his body disappeared.

_He was beautiful._

His dark brown eyes—like his mother's—were deep and expressive. He stared at Edward with interest, lifting his hand up and sucking on this thumb as he appraised him. Dark blond hair flopped over his forehead; a color Edward had seen in enough photographs of his own childhood to know it would eventually darken into a deep bronze, enough to make Matty resemble his father.

Matty's scant eyebrows pulled down into a frown, not in sadness so much as concentration. He pulled his hand away from his mouth—his thumb still glistening from being sucked—and pointed at Edward.

"That?"

Bella caught Edward's eye again, her features reassuring. "That's daddy, darling."

Matty shrugged, unperturbed by the news, the words clearly meaning nothing to him. Edward wasn't sure if he was relieved he was being accepted so easily, or angry he was robbed of a tearful reunion.

His hear t beat more rapidly when he saw his son staring up at him. He was so amazing, like the best parts of both of them had been moulded into something perfect and new. Edward tried to regulate his breathing, to calm his reaction so he didn't frighten his boy. Matty reached out and touched Edward's face, the tiny frown lines between his brows disappearing as he gave Edward the most delighted smile.

"Da."

The touch of his son's soft hand on his own, bristled face was indescribable. He wanted to close his eyes and suck in the emotions, grab his hand and hold him closer. He wanted to snatch Matty from Bella's arms and swing him around, show him how happy he was to see him.

His son.

His.

"Hi Matthew," he said, the corners of his lips threatening to reach his ears, his grin was so wide. "How are you doing?"

Matty nodded, as if he understood, and reached out to Edward, squirming in Bella's arms until she lifted him across. It took Edward a moment to realize what was happening, his body reacting before his mind. It was almost a shock for him to realize he was holding his son in his arms, their faces so close he could feel Matthew's rapid breaths feathering his skin.

"That." Matthew poked Edward's cheek with his finger, and laughed, his giggle so infectious that Edward heard his own, deeper chuckle reflecting back. He tightened his arms a little under Matthew, delighting in the sensation of holding his son, amazed at how light he felt, yet how perfectly he fit in his arms.

"He's perfect." He stared at Bella with new eyes. How could he hate somebody who had made something so perfect?

"He likes you. He doesn't usually throw himself at people." Her voice was steady but he could see her eyes glisten. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and glanced away. "Has everything been okay Jasper?"

Edward had forgotten it wasn't only the three of them, and glanced up at Jasper with surprise. "Hi Jasper." He reached out a hand, adjusting Matty so he was holding him firmly with his other arm.

"Edward, it's good to see you." Jasper's grin was as huge as Edward's. "It's been a long time coming." He raised his eyebrows at Bella, who had the good grace to look ashamed.

"Where's Alice?" Bella asked, lifting herself onto her tiptoes so she could glance over Jasper's shoulder and into the villa. "I thought she'd be the first out to see us."

"She overslept," Jasper replied with a mock whisper. "I've been up with Matty since five."

Matty nodded rapidly, as if he was joining in the conversation. "Up."

"That's right, Matty. Up and awake. Makes me really happy." Jasper's voice was deadpan. "It's all over to you now, Edward. Enjoy."

"I intend to," Edward's face seemed moulded into a permagrin. "I can't see the early mornings being a problem." Not even mixed with jet lag. He didn't intend to miss a moment more with his son.

"Edward!" Alice's voice carried through the tiled entranceway and out of the door. The loud clattering of her running down the stairs was followed by a vision of green, hurtling herself across the hall and barely coming to a halt in front of her brother. "I can't believe I missed the big reunion. I've been planning it for days." She turned around and punched Jasper on the arm. "I told you not to bring him out here."

"Lay off the violence," Jasper chided good-humoredly. From the way his eyes lit up as soon as Alice arrived, Edward could tell there was something more than friendship going on. He shook his head slightly, trying to get the thought right out of his mind. He had bigger fish to fry for the moment; the big brother act would have to wait.

"Do you love him, Edward? Isn't he gorgeous?" Alice had already forgotten Jasper's infraction, and instead started to make faces at Matty, who giggled in response. "You look so natural, holding him. Have you ever held a baby before, do you know what you're meant to be doing?" She looked almost disappointed to have to stop and take a breath.

"I held you for hours when you were a baby. All clingy and whiny, not to mention constantly needing your diaper changed." Edward raised his eyebrows at Alice, and her cheeks flushed as she glanced across to see if Jasper had heard. "So I think I'll do fine."

The day passed in a blur of diapers and bright, plastic toys. In between the naps and play, Edward marvelled what must seem like a normal Wednesday to anybody else was like a day of miracles to him. His attention was constantly on his son, watching his chubby legs wobble as he ran from room to room, the constant need to rush seeming to be his main driver in life. He was energetic right up until the moment tiredness hit, and suddenly, like an electronic toy whose battery had run out, he flagged and curled up in Bella's arms, sucking at his thumb and pointing at a book.

Bella had shown him how to run the bath to hit the right temperature, how to change Matty's nappy so his constant wriggling didn't cause a bigger mess. Everything she did seemed accompanied by a soundtrack of advice and experience, and part of him wanted to push her away and tell her to leave him alone. He was an intelligent guy, he was pretty sure he could handle an eighteen month old child.

Bedtime was beautiful. Matty's room had been decorated before Bella gave birth, though she'd refused to find out the sex of the baby. It felt warm, and calm—like an island oasis after a storm. The two of them walked him into the nursery together, Bella holding Matty tightly against her chest, and he lifted his head up and struggled until she lowered him down, letting his tiny feet touch the warm wooden floor.

Matty toddled over to the pale blue bookshelf, pulling out a well-worn, dog-eared book and holding it out in front of him he walked toward Edward, offering it to him with an expression on his face that was hard to read.

"Story." Like he knew Edward was a novice, Matty held out his hand, curling it around Edward's and together they walked over to the blue-and-cream plaid rocking chair next to his cot. Edward sat down, helping Matty as he clambered onto his knees, curling up on Edward's lap with his thumb in his mouth.

For a moment Edward held Matty's head against his chest, luxuriating in the warmth he felt both inside and out. It was almost impossible to believe only two days earlier he hadn't even known of Matthew's existence. Now he _was_ Edward's existence.

"Read," Matthew commanded, and Edward supressed a grin. He unfolded the cardboard book, being careful not to pull the paper away from the edges any more than they already had done, and began to read in a soft, deep tone.

"_In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf … "_

As he turned the pages, reading the words and sharing the pictures with Matty, he watched as his son's eyelids began to droop, his thick, blond lashes sweeping his face. Edward reached a hand out and gently cupped Matty's cheek, feeling the softness of his skin and the plumpness of his tired smile. His heart clenched with the thought he'd always have him, always be able to hold him in his arms. Matty was his now, as much as he was Bella's, and he was determined never to let him go again.

Out of everything that had happened in the past twelve years, from the way they had first met, to the way she had run away from him yet again, he couldn't regret a single moment. Not if it had led to the birth of this wonderful child. No matter what he felt toward Bella—or the way he regarded her actions to date—he couldn't bring himself to hate a woman who had nurtured Matthew in the way she had.

All day he had watched the love spill over from her eyes as she watched Matthew, played with him, picked him up when he was crying and chastised him when he did something wrong. Every movement she made, every word she spoke was with her son in mind.

He was clearly first in both their lives.

When Matthew was asleep, he kissed his soft blond head before lifted him gently into his cot. Pulling the blanket over him until his body was covered, Edward lingered a moment longer, burning the image of his peaceful son into his mind, so he could think about him all night.

Edward turned to leave, seeing Bella standing by the door, tears pouring down her face, wringing her hands as she stared at the two of them. Part of him wanted to touch her, to pull her into his arms, but he didn't want to give her false hope all was well between them.

All was far from well.

"Can we talk?" she asked, as he swept past her, barely glancing at her.

"Not tonight." He was firm. "I'm exhausted, I'm going to bed."

"When then?" Bella was persistent and his cool façade disappeared.

"On my schedule Bella, not yours." He was angry now, and she shrunk away. "It's been a hell of a day and I've got a lot to think about. Good night."

"Good night." Her words were faint and tremulous, and it took everything he had to walk away.

But he did it, and he knew why. This wasn't about them anymore. It wasn't about a girl and a boy who were foolish enough to let love slip through their hands. It was about their son; a beautiful child who only deserved to know a life full of happiness and joy.

Matty was Edward's life now, and nothing else was going to get in the way.

* * *

**A/N - ****I've been so blown away by your reviews, thank you for taking the time to let me know what you think. I read and keep them all.**

**My heartfelt thanks to SunflowerFran for beta-ing, and to Sparrow for pre-reading. It's no word of a lie to say I couldn't do this without your support.**

**Next chapter will be up on Saturday. See you then. Choc xx**


	37. Chapter 36

**Fix You Chapter 36**

**May 2012**

The rain was beating down on the tiled roof, sounding like the hooves of a thousand horses. Bella sighed loudly, watching as Matty ran from room to room, desperate in his need to expend some energy. The summer storm had started suddenly; the yellow-blue of the morning sky slowly painted over by grey, the heaviness increasing until the clouds could no longer contain the rain. There was no gentle patter of raindrops against the window; the storm had started as it meant to go on: hard and harsh.

Matty wasn't an indoor child. He needed fresh air, and grass, with wide-open spaces. He loved to explore; picking flowers and running after scurrying animals, squealing with frustration when they eluded his grasp. Being stuck inside was mere containment. The pressure of his unexpended energy seemed to grow until Bella felt it might burst the roof off the house.

He was banging on the door to the orangery now. Edward was inside the closed room, working on his laptop. He had muttered something about a videoconference during another of their strained exchanges, and Bella pulled at Matty's arm, hushing him as she tried to drag him away.

"No!" Matty's face compressed with anger. Bella swallowed hard and mustered up her mother-courage.

"Come away from the door, Matty." Her voice was firm. It was something she had learned; firmness meant you were listened to.

"Not." Matty shook his head and turned away again, his little fist hammering against the wood. Bella sighed and scooped him up, lifting him away from the door. For a moment Matty stared at her, his mouth agape as if he was surprised she had actually defied him. His lips trembled and his eyes shut tightly, a wail escaping his throat.

She tried to walk away as fast as she could, but Matty's lungs were surprisingly strong, and only a moment later Edward opened the door, walking out into the hall and staring at them with a questioning look.

"Is he okay?" His voice was soft as he stared at his son.

"I'm so sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you. He's a little stir crazy."

It was killing her in small, measured stages. A glance here, a tightly polite word there. Every interaction with Edward was torture, from the mornings at the kitchen table, feeding Matty, to the evenings when he brushed past her and went straight to his room.

Bella was desperate to talk. She was dying to listen. She didn't care if he wanted to vent, to tell her how much he hated her; he could shout and scream all he wanted to. She could take it, far better than she could take his intense, innate politeness.

Edward had been here for five days now. Five tense days of walking on eggshells and tiptoeing around their future. It was like he knew this would be greater torture than shouting at her, berating her.

It was.

Matty started to struggle in her arms, wanting to be put down, desperate to run over to his father. Edward advanced toward them, a smile tugging at his lips, and when he was only a few feet away Matty reached his chubby arms out, wriggling harder in Bella's grasp.

"Dad." He was almost shouting. "Daddy."

Bella froze.

Her heart swelled, pressuring her ribs until she thought she was going to explode. She looked at Edward, noticed his watery eyes, and felt herself wanting to wipe the tears away before they formed.

"He said my name."

Bella nodded, her own tears escaping. Edward lifted Matty from her arms, pulling him tightly against his chest, cradling his sons head in his large palm.

"Can you say it again, Matty?" He whispered. "Say 'daddy'."

Matty looked up at his father, his eyes sparkling as he realized it was another game. He was good at these.

"Daddy." His words were rewarded with a squeal from his Bella and a kiss from Edward. They looked at each other again, and Bella noticed a softness she hadn't seen before. She wanted to wrap it around her body and snuggle within it.

"Such a clever boy." She reached out her hand and stroked his head, his soft strands caressing her palm.

Edward continued to stare at her, and she could feel a blush creeping across her face. Like a magnet she was drawn in, her own eyes stuck on his. Emotion bubbled within her like a just-opened bottle of champagne. He hadn't forgiven her—she knew that much, and what was worse she could understand it—but she couldn't quash the hope one day soon he might.

"I need to finish my conference." Edward's voice was thick with emotion. There was a tick in his jaw, and she wanted to cup her hand around his chiselled features, smooth out the tension.

"I'll take him," she offered, reaching out her arms. Matty struggled and held tightly onto Edward. It made them both smile.

"He can come in with me, if that's okay? It should only be a few minutes." They were back to being polite.

Baby steps, she reminded herself.

"That's fine. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." _Ask me to join you. Please invite me in._

"We'll be fine." He turned around and walked back to the orangery, pulling the door open so he and Matty could walk inside. Bella rolled her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched Edward's retreating back, recalling the text message she'd received from Alice that morning.

_**Give him time. He's worth it – A**_

. . .

When evening came, Bella's body ached from polite smiles and walking on tiptoes. Over the past few days they had fallen into eating dinner with Matty—so they didn't have to talk alone—followed by his bath and bedtime routine. Edward participated eagerly, his face glowing as he played with his son, running around the house and avoiding the elephant they both knew was there, huge hooves pounding on the wooden floor.

"He's asleep," Edward whispered as he walked out of the nursery.

Bella smiled and walked past him, knowing Edward would be heading right for his bedroom. She stopped at Matty's cot, leaning over to stroke his peaceful face, her fingers lingering on the plump skin of his cheeks.

"Goodnight, sweet prince." She kissed her middle and index finger before pressing them to his forehead. Bed times were always bittersweet; part of her was relieved, knowing at the end of a long day of running after him, she would have an evening of rest. The other half missed his smiles and giggles, and the sensation of his arms curling around her in love.

Bella walked quietly out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her, the 'click' almost making her jump. She was so caught up in her thoughts it took her a moment to realize Edward was still standing there, leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets, and the tendons of his arms tensed and defined.

"Do you want to talk?"

Her stomach lurched. It was the moment she'd been waiting for all week, but now it was here she was trembling with fear.

She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Edward pushed himself off the walk and headed for the living room, Bella trailing in his wake, her mind a myriad of thoughts and worries.

There was an open bottle of red wine on the coffee table, with two half-filled glasses. Bella wondered if it was a good idea to drink alcohol with Edward near. He already filled her senses until she thought she would burst. How much worse would it be to face him with the false bravado the wine would give her?

"I thought this might help." He lifted a glass and offered it to her. Bella grasped the stem, feeling the fragility of the crystal, wondering if it would snap if she got any tenser.

"Thank you," she murmured, and sat down opposite him. The smoked glass coffee table was between them; a welcome barrier. Lifting the glass to her lips, she took a sip, letting the warm, ambient fluid dance around her taste buds before swallowing.

Edward cleared his throat. "Our son is beautiful."

She nodded again, the lump in her throat growing. "He is."

"I'm still so fucked up over everything that's happened, but we need to concentrate on Matty." He was running his finger around the rim of his glass. "His happiness is the most important thing."

"It's all I care about," she agreed with a small voice.

"You're a wonderful mother, Bella. I don't want to take him away from you."

She felt like she could breathe for the first time in forever.

"But I need to be with him too," he added, before whispering. "Now I've gotten to know him, I don't want to let him go."

"I know." Her heart filled with love. "I want you to be with him. You're his father, and he loves you." It was clear to her, from the way Matty stared up at Edward adoringly. "I've never seen him accept anybody so fast."

Edward drained his glass, before setting it down on the table. "But the fact remains we live in different countries. Hell, we're on different continents for Christ's sake."

There it was again; the barrier which had haunted them for twelve years, only now with added complications.

"We can make this work," Bella argued, unsure of who she was trying to convince, "If we're both willing to try."

Edward leaned forward, and for a moment she wished the coffee table would disappear. The look in his deep, green eyes reminded her of a hungry, desperate man, and she wanted to feed him.

"I'm willing to try."

Her mouth was too dry to swallow, and she could feel her heartbeat start to race as his stare remained on her face. His eyes were dark in the ambient glow of the lamplight, but the green halo surrounding them kept her gaze captured.

"We'll move to New York, Matty and I." Her mouth opened before her brain engaged, but she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry. "I'll find an apartment and we can share custody there."

His eyebrows rose with surprise. "You'd do that?"

Bella was almost as shocked as him. She slowly nodded. "Yes, I'd do that. Matty deserves to see you, not only for holidays but in the evenings, on weekends. I can't think of another way."

She wouldn't subject another generation to the horrors of transatlantic shared custody. She and Edward had both suffered enough from flying between parents; it wasn't what she dreamt of for her own son.

"I don't know what to say."

She gave him a small smile. "There's no need to say anything. I'm doing this for Matty as much as for you."

"Thank you." His voice was saturated with emotion.

She leaned forward and put her glass down on the table. At the same moment, Edward leaned forward and captured her hand in his. She gasped at the contact, the warmth of his hand, the roughness of his skin. It was the first time they had really touched in two years, and the memories came flooding back until they were a constant ache in her chest.

She stared at the way his hand curled around hers, the warm hue of his skin contrasting with her own, paler flesh. She drew in a ragged breath, willing herself to lift up her eyes, wanting to see what sentiment was behind his move.

When she finally looked at his face, she saw him staring back, his expression tender. Her fingers flexed to squeeze his palm. She knew he was grateful for her offer, and nothing more, but it didn't stop her heart from racing as she took in his gentle smile and the shallow lines around his eyes. The years hadn't diminished his beauty; he seemed to have grown into his looks, and the way the emotions were spilling out of her gut she knew of one irrevocable fact.

She was still in love with Edward Cullen.

. . .

Bella tried not to grimace as they walked across the tarmac, but it was a losing battle when she saw the white jet waiting for them. It was lower to the ground than she was used to, five galvanized metal steps away, and the five portholes facing her were gleaming and bright.

She turned to look at Matty, who was clinging to Edward's neck with one arm, his other pointing at the plane.

"That?" he asked, and Bella allowed herself to smile.

"It's a plane. It's going to take us up into the sky." She reached out and touched his cheek.

"All the way to London," Edward added.

And the frown was back again.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing the way she withdrew.

Bella nodded her head. She would be, once they got the trip to London over. She was afraid to see Esme and Carlisle, and was thinking of staying in the hotel when Edward took Matty to meet them. She knew she was a coward, but there was only one way this meeting was going to end. In tears.

"I'm afraid this baby is only taking us to London." Edward tapped his hand on the jet, making a clanging, metallic sound. "We need to fly scheduled to New York."

"How dreadful," Bella allowed herself to crack a smile. "I hate slumming in first class."

Edward's lips twitched. "It wasn't you I was feeling sorry for. It was all the other passengers once we let our boy loose on the plane."

Bella closed her eyes and tried to picture Matty running up the aisle of first class, knocking over drinks and disturbing angry businessmen. Maybe a three-day layover in London wasn't such a bad thing after all.

They climbed up the steps, Bella taking her son from Edward's arms as he stopped to chat with the pilot, discussing the flight plan and arrival times. As she walked into the main cabin she felt herself gasp; it was so very different to the standard class she usually frequented. The bright colors of the airline had been replaced by muted cream leather and dark walnut veneer. It had a calming effect, and as she sat down in her seat, with Matty in her lap, she allowed herself to relax.

"We'll be leaving in ten minutes, they're doing the final checks," Edward told her as he walked into the cabin. Matty's head turned automatically at his father's voice, his eyes seeking him out as he walked over to them. "Hey little guy, are you looking forward to your first flight?" He looked up at Bella. "Did you bring a bottle for his ears?"

"It's right here." She pointed to the table in front of them. "I've filled it with water."

They were both afraid he'd inherited Bella's sensitive ears. She had trouble every time she flew, and the thought of her son going through the same sort of pain was too much to bear. They'd brought bottles and pacifiers in the hope he would be able to suck and alleviate any pressure in his canals.

"If your ears hurt, I can take him." Edward promised, helping Bella fit the seat-belt extension around Matty's waist. He was too young to sit alone in a seat.

"I'm hoping they'll be okay since it's a shorter flight. It's the one on Friday I need to worry about."

Edward rubbed the top of her arm, and she felt herself stiffen. She didn't want to let him know how much his kindness affected her.

"We'll see. I'll be there to help."

When they arrived in London, it took Edward a while to get through passport control. Bella used the time to change Matty's diaper and freshen herself up, trying not to look too closely at her drawn face in the mirror as she applied a stroke of lip-gloss. When they emerged, Edward was finally waiting for them; his eyes as tired as Bella's.

"If it makes you feel any better, it will be my turn for the interrogation in New York." She stopped herself from reaching out a hand to cup his cheek.

"You have an American passport," he pointed out.

"I do, but Matty doesn't. Not yet."

Edward lifted his son from her arms, placing him on the handle of the trolley he was pushing. "What's on his birth certificate?" His voice was light, but she could sense the tension behind his question.

"Just my name." She had registered him at the Consulate in France.

"We'll need to change that, too." Edward frowned, looking down at Matty. "He needs to have my name there as well. I'll speak to my lawyers."

Bella glanced up, taking in the concern on his face. This was clearly important to him. "Of course. We'll need to sort out some sort of visa for him if we're going to stay in New York."

"Heidi's already on to it. Everything should be ready for Thursday."

They'd made it to the over-size baggage department, where Matty's buggy was waiting for him. Bella lifted him in gently, pulling the straps across him, tickling his legs enough to make him giggle. She hadn't asked Edward where they were staying, or how they were getting there, but she was suddenly desperate to know.

This was London. It was her city, her playground. She was delighted to be home, if only for a few days.

"Where are we staying?" She pushed Matty's buggy across the polished tile floor. Edward followed her pace, pushing the luggage trolley. It was piled high with suitcases; full of clothes and toys and the usual baby paraphernalia.

"I've booked us a suite at the Dorchester," Edward confided. "There are two bedrooms. I've asked for a cot to be put in your room."

Bella smiled. She didn't like the thought of their son in his own room in a strange place. It was much better to have him with her.

"Thank you for arranging it." She smiled up at him. He stared at her through dark eyes, allowing a grin to pull at his lips. Her heart stopped beating for a moment.

"I should thank _you_. You're the one uprooting everything and moving thousands of miles." They walked through the automatic doors, the bustle of people and shops making her blink momentarily.

"It's the right thing to do." Bella said simply. Edward reached out and squeezed her right hand, where it gripped the handle of the buggy. Her breath hitched at the unexpected gesture.

"Thank you, anyway." He whispered, and she lifted her hand and squeezed back.

They were nearly at the end of the walkway when Edward's face dropped, his mouth falling open. He stopped walking, glancing at Bella with concern, and she felt her heart start to race. Something was wrong.

"I told them not to do this," he whispered, and he held her hand tightly, as if he was afraid she'd run. "I'm sorry, Bella, I promise I'll be with you."

She followed his line of sight. Standing at the edge of the crowd, staring at the two of them with open mouths, were Carlisle and Esme. Neither looked particularly happy—or pleased to see them—but she noticed with relief their expressions softened as soon as they saw Matty, wriggling in his buggy, singing to himself.

All hopes of avoiding confrontation seemed futile. She allowed Edward to pull them both toward his parents, his grip on her hand never wavering. She breathed deeply, trying to keep her inhalations steady, rearranging her expression to hide her fear.

"Edward!" Esme ran across the last few feet, flinging her arms around him. Bella watched as he hugged her back, before turning to Carlisle and shaking his hand. They all leaned down to talk to Matty, who cowered away, his face crumpling as he became overwhelmed by the attention.

Bella knew exactly how he felt.

* * *

**A/N - SunflowerFran and SparrowNotes24 keep me sane and sort out my words. Thanks guys. **

**I'm so thankful for your reviews. I don't always get to reply, but I read and keep them all. you make me very happy.**

**I'm away with work this week, so not sure if I will be able to post before next Saturday. I'll try my best though. Either way I'll put a teaser in my Facebook group and on fictionators dot com Teaser Monday.**

**I hope you all have a great weekend!**** Choc xx**


	38. Chapter 37

**A/N - Fanfiction alerts weren't working on Saturday when I last updated - in case you missed the last chapter.**

**Thanks to Fran and Sparrow for all their help.**

**Shall we get on with the show?**

* * *

**Fix You Chapter 37**

**May 2012**

Matty's face crumpled, and his mouth opened to emit a loud wail. Esme and Carlisle jumped at the sound, stepping backwards to give him some space. Edward could feel Bella tense beside him, and when he looked at her face, he saw concern and agitation etched across it. He knew her well enough to understand that she wanted to comfort her son, but was afraid to upset his parents by pushing through and lifting Matty out of his pram. He squeezed her hand and leaned down, unstrapping the buckles across his son's waist and lifted him out, murmuring comforting words as he cradled his head.

"Shhhh, it's okay, it's okay."

Matty pulled his thumb between his lips, slurping on the tip. Soundless sobs made his chest hitch rhythmically, his eyes wet as he scrunched them tight. "Mama … "

Edward turned to Bella, who reached out and cupped Matthew's cheek, her hand reassuring as she stroked his soft skin.

Esme stood up. "Bella."

"Esme. How are you?" Matty grabbed Bella's hand and she squeezed him back.

"I don't know. I really don't know." Esme shook her head, her caramel curls bouncing on her shoulders. "I can't even tell you how I'm feeling right now."

"I can. I'm pretty pissed, Bella." Carlisle interjected, causing Esme to place her hand on his shoulder. He stood up straight, his startling blue eyes cold as he stared at Bella, shaking his head slowly. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Wait a minute …" Edward stepped forward, handing Matty to Bella. She lifted him by his padded behind, and he wrapped his hands around her neck, chest still wracked with sobs. "Whatever happened here is between Bella and me. I don't need you to fight my battles."

Esme stepped between them, her face unreadable. "There's no fighting going on here, Edward. We just want some answers. I think we're entitled to that."

Behind her, Carlisle had the countenance of a man on the edge. He held himself too still, his face too calm. For the first time in his life, Edward could feel himself having to front up to his father. Bella remained silent, and from the corner of his eye he could see her trembling. He wanted to reach out and pull her towards him, crush her in his arms.

"This isn't really the time or place, Esme. I said we'd meet you at the house so we could avoid just this sort of spectacle." Edward gestured at the crowded airport. They were getting jostled every few moments by passengers trying to get past.

"I just want to speak to Bella, okay? Not as the mother of your child, or the girl who left you, but as the daughter I used to know." Esme wiped a stray tear from her eye. "Can we go and get a coffee or something?"

He turned to look at Bella, who nodded quickly. Matty was staring at them all, his thumb still attached to his mouth. The tears had dried a shiny trail on his cheeks, reflecting in the harsh glare of the airport lights.

"Esme, Carlisle, this is Matty." Bella inhaled deeply before stepping forward. "Matty, this is …" She frowned and looked at Esme. "What shall I call you?"

"I'm not sure. I've never had to think about it." Esme stood for a moment, lips pulled down as she thought things through. "I guess my mom was a Grandma, so I'll be the same." She turned to look at Carlisle. He was staring at Matthew, his eyes scanning his hair and his face.

"There's no doubt about it, he's the spit of you, Edward." He reached out a finger and tickled Matty's chin, making him hiccup a watery giggle. "I suppose 'Pops' will do."

"Matty, can you say hello to Grandma and Pops?" Bella asked him, bouncing him in her arms.

Matty pulled his thumb from his mouth with a pop before pursing his lips. "Hi." He waved his hand.

"Clever boy." Edward smiled, reaching out to caress his curls. Matty grinned and clapped his hands, not afraid to blow his own trumpet. His previous tears were all but forgotten.

"He's beautiful." Esme pulled Edward towards her, hugging him tightly. "I'm so proud of you, darling." Edward stepped back, face flushing with embarrassment. He wasn't sure what to say in response.

"He_ is_ beautiful," Carlisle agreed, his face still solemn. "Bella, I apologize for my anger. You need to give me a bit of time to get over this."

"You shouldn't have to apologize." Her face fell. She was clasping Matty against her body like a talisman. "I know this is my fault and I can't tell you how hard I'm going to try to make up for it." She looked over at Edward, her eyes catching his. "I'll try and explain what happened, but I know it isn't going to be easy for any of you to get over."

"It isn't all your fault," Edward interjected. He collapsed the buggy and put it on top of the cases, before turning to squeeze Bella's shoulder. "We all fucked up somewhere along the way. I should have called you, and my mother should have told me _you_ called …"

"Elizabeth knew about this?" Carlisle's voice was icy. He lifted his hand and dragged it through his thick, blond hair. "What the hell?"

"She told Bella that Lauren was in a wheelchair and I'd never leave her." Edward told his father. Despite the bustle of the airport, it was like the five of them were suspended in a bubble, people starting to give them a wide berth as they walked around them. Edward wasn't sure if it was because of the latent anger in the air, or the way they were all holding themselves so upright it looked unnatural.

"I'd called to tell Edward about the pregnancy," Bella added. "She didn't know though, that I was pregnant, I mean."

"It doesn't really matter whether she knew or not. She's an interfering—" Carlisle managed to catch himself in time. From the corner of his eye, Edward noticed Esme trying to bite down a smile. "Have you spoken to her about it, Edward?"

"I'm not really in the right place mentally to speak to her at all. When I do—if I do—then I'll be sure to give her your regards."

Matty squirmed in Bella's arms until he was facing Esme. He reached out his hand and touched her hair, making Esme giggle when he tugged. For the first time, Carlisle's face softened, a half smile whispering across his lips. Edward's breath escaped in a gust.

They walked over to the café near the airport exit, trying to avoid the milling passengers near the arrivals gate. Bella and Esme walked ahead, Esme holding Matty's outstretched hand, a smile plastered over her face. They all knew the ordeal wasn't over yet, that the divides hadn't been bridged, but Edward could feel himself hope that one day they would be.

Because, if he squinted his eyes and looked into the future, there was nothing he wanted more than to be surrounded by all the people he loved.

. . . .

A crashing sound coming from another room woke Edward up. His eyes were bleary and glued by sleep, the room dark and unfamiliar. He rubbed a little, trying to orient himself, the strange green light of the bedside clock not helping him to work out his location.

His mouth was parched, and he reached out to the table next to his bed, his hand groping for a glass of water. He came up empty.

It took Matty's wail to echo through the wall before he realized exactly where he was.

_London._

_Hotel._

_Middle of the night._

Edward sat straight up in his bed, reaching behind him to flick the light switch on the wooden headboard. The bedside lamp glowed warm and yellow, enough to illuminate but not startle. Everything in this room had been planned to pamper and coddle.

There was another cry, followed by a lower voice. Bella was murmuring to him, maybe trying to relax him back to sleep. From the sound of his angry riposte, Matty was having none of it.

Pulling back the covers, Edward swung his legs out of bed, glancing down to check he was covered enough to be seen. His plaid pajama bottoms hung from his hips, his chest bare and glowing under the glare of the lamp.

He padded across the expensive carpet and out into the main room, pushing the door open quietly in case Matty had already dropped back to sleep. Bella was pacing the wooden floor, her feet bare, the lacquer on her nails a deep, dark red in the half-light. Matty struggled in her arms, his hands beating her back as she made a doomed attempt to placate him.

"Everything okay?" Edward's voice was soft as he approached her, but she jumped nevertheless. Bella looked up at him, her eyes wide, lips curled in an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry; we didn't mean to wake you up. He escaped from the cot, it must be shallower than the one we have at home." One of the straps of her camisole had slipped down her shoulder, revealing smooth, alabaster skin. It looked like porcelain in the dark room.

"Is he all right?" Edward's brow furrowed. "It must have been a long way down."

Bella smiled. "He's fine. He made it into this room before I was even aware what was happening. I swear he has a bright future ahead of him as an escape artist."

As if he realized they were talking about him, Matty wailed again, his tone taking on a desperate edge. He looked up at Edward with red-rimmed eyes, his face screwed up in misery.

"Do you want me to take him?" Edward's voice was still low. He was distracted by her skin. He could remember the way it tasted.

"I think he's frightened, he doesn't recognize where he is. I feel a bit disoriented myself." Their eyes caught and locked, and for a moment they were silent, feeling the blanket of energy pushing down on them all. Then Matty opened his mouth again and screamed.

Edward reached forward and ran his hand across Matty's cheek. It surprised him; enough to quiet him momentarily while he took in the change. "Hey, Matty, it's sleep time," Edward murmured, his hand gentle but firm.

"Daddy." Matty reached out to him, his voice a plaintive wail. Edward scooped him up, relieving Bella of the burden, holding his son tightly against his chest in an attempt to make him feel safe. It seemed to work; his breathing became slower, more regular, and his hand moved up to his mouth, thumb extended. Edward rubbed his back, swaying a little in time to a silent rhythm, his head buried in his son's hair.

He smelled so good.

"Shall I try to put him to sleep?" Edward asked, looking up at Bella. She was standing by the dining table, fiddling with the kettle.

"Yes please. I think I'll put him in the bed with me. I don't want to risk him falling out of his cot again, it could have been so much worse."

Edward walked into her room, the fragrance both familiar and enticing. It reminded him of lazy days in London, and frantic nights in New York. Matty yawned; thumb firmly stuck in his mouth, and let Edward lay him on the unruffled pillow, his eyes fluttering under the weight of his fatigue.

"Try to sleep." He leaned forward and kissed Matty's cheek, the plump skin smooth against his lips. Matty sighed, twisting his body until he was lying on his side, legs curled under his diapered rump. He stayed for a moment, watching his son as his mouth worked itself against his thumb, the occasional slurp breaking the silence of the night.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured, walking out of the bedroom and pulling the door closed behind him. He glanced around, spotting Bella sitting on the plush, upholstered sofa, her legs curled beneath her, hands wrapped around a mug of tea.

"I made you one, in case you're thirsty." She pointed over at the table. Edward walked over and retrieved the cup. The steam rose up as he lifted the mug to his lips, hot, sweet liquid spilling over the rim into his mouth. He swallowed it like a dying man.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Bella's reply was rigidly polite. Edward wondered what would crack the barrier; bring it falling down until all that was left was raw wounds and honesty.

"I never got to apologize for the ambush at the airport." He smiled nervously, trying not to look at her too closely. Even though the pajamas she had on were fairly conservative—a tank and long, black pants—they were strangely erotic to look at, knowing she was naked underneath. And he knew all too well what she looked like when disrobed.

His conflicting emotions were hard enough to handle in the daylight, let alone the dark gloom of night.

"It wasn't your fault. I knew I had to see them some point." She took another sip, soft lips touching china. He watched as she swallowed, eyes closing momentarily to savor.

"I thought it went surprisingly well, considering." Edward sat down on the sofa beside her, his legs inches from her feet. He wanted to lift them up, put them on his lap and rub them.

He didn't.

"They're always gracious. I know it must have been hard, being civil to me after all that's happened." Bella reached forward and put her cup on the coffee table. "They seemed to like Matty, though. That's all that matters."

"It will get easier, you know, every time we tell people." He watched her breath hitch when he said the word 'we'. "Things can only get better."

She smiled, her face lighting up the dark room. Despite her tiredness, and the tension of the day, she was still heartbreakingly beautiful, like a work of art. Since becoming a mother, her breasts were rounder, her cheekbones more defined. But it was the inner change that affected him the most; watching her interact with their son. He could so easily fall in love with the way she adored Matty.

Bella cleared her throat. "I haven't told my dad yet. I was going to visit him after telling you while I was in New York. I guess I'll catch up with him after we arrive." Her brow crumpled.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll be having a talk with my mother when we get back at some point," he replied.

Bella raised her eyebrows, teeth playing with her lip. "It never ends does it? Just when you think the hardest part is over, something else comes up to take its place."

Edward reached his hand out, then pulled it back, running his finger over the pattern of the sofa. Lifting his head, he looked at her, his expression serious. "You know, when I came to London and found you gone, I thought I'd never be happy again." Her face stilled at his words. "I thought it would be so easy; I'd come to your flat, sweep you off your feet and carry you back to Manhattan."

Bella leaned toward him, eyes glistening. She looked like she wanted to say something, but her lips remained still, her teeth still worrying at the bottom one.

He took another breath, not sure of where he was going with this. He wanted to tell her, needed her to know just what he'd been through. But to hurt her was to hurt himself.

"I feel like I've just existed for two years, like I put things on hold. And to know that I could have spent those two years with Matty and with you …" His voice broke before he could finish his sentence.

"I'm so sorry." Bella scrambled to her knees, grabbing his hand and pulling it against her face. "I know I fucked up everything. If I could go back and change it I would." Her tears moistened his fingers, and he moved his thumb against her cheek, wiping them away. "I hate that you missed out, and I hate that I believed you were still with Lauren. Even worse than that, I had a piece of you with me, and you had nothing."

"I should have called ... " Edward twisted his hips, turning to face her. Her skin was smooth under his rough fingers, pulled taut against her cheekbones. Just a few inches and he could caress her neck; tangle his fingers into her hair. Pull her against him until their lips …

He shook his head, trying to empty it of conflicting emotions. He wanted to pull her onto him, kiss the holy fuck out of her; grinding his aching cock against her until she was begging him for more. But there was a deeper, angrier part of him that wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled, scream at her until she was begging him for mercy.

He needed to go to bed, alone. He didn't trust himself not to hurt her. He couldn't depend on her not to hurt _him_. The web just kept getting stickier.

. . .

The flight to New York was as fraught as they'd expected it to be. At first, Matty had been distracted by the movies on the screen in front of him; Bella pointing out his favorite characters as she tried to stop him taking the earphones off his head. Later, he'd gone through a manic twenty minutes, trying to escape from them and run down the aisle, not understanding that he needed to sit still. Edward had held him, walking him around the cabin until his head nodded with heavy sleep, before laying him across their laps, hands stroking as he dreamed peacefully.

They didn't speak of the previous night. Bella's tears, and his own embarrassing response were buried at the bottom of their bigger troubles. Matty was their shield and their glue, binding them together while allowing them to ignore everything else that went on between them.

"I've asked the staff to prepare rooms for you and Matty," Edward whispered, his hand stroking his son's hair. "I've arranged for a bed instead of a cot, in case of any more Houdini escapades."

Bella tried to crack a smile. "He'll have to stick to safe-cracking and base jumping instead I guess." She met his gaze. "Thanks for letting us stay while I look for something more permanent."

It was early evening when they arrived at his apartment. Matty was surprisingly subdued, as if he'd worn off all his energy on the plane. His head lolled against his car seat as he stared out of the window, his teeth scraping rhythmically against his thumb. Occasionally something would take his interest and he'd point, using single words to ask what it was. Bella would patiently say the word, telling him more about it, and Edward tried not to watch the way her lips moved as she spoke.

He was going to go crazy having them so close to him, but it would be so much worse when they moved out. He wanted to find a way to keep them close, so he could watch over them, make sure they were safe. It wasn't enough just to have them in the same city, he wanted them under his roof.

Always.

Jack had brought their luggage up, putting Bella's cases in her room, unsure of what belonged to her or Matty. She'd packed a smaller bag with their overnight things, and quickly bathed him before putting him in a snug onesie, covered with pictures of cars. Edward lingered in the bedroom, watching his son play with the plastic toys he'd asked Heidi to order for him, smiling as Matty crawled from the plastic garage to the kitchen, his eyes wide with delight.

"It seems like Toys 'R' Us just threw up in your apartment," Bella observed, watching Matty bang a plastic saucepan against his head. "It looks so incongruous next to the expensive furniture."

Edward scratched his chin. The apartment clearly hadn't been decorated with children in mind; a glance at the white walls and raw silk upholstery was enough to give that little snippet away. But somehow, having his son here, being surrounded by childhood paraphernalia, attracted him to the apartment more than any thousand-dollar designer could.

"I just ordered the basics. We'll have to work out what else we need." He caught her eye. Her chocolate brown irises were huge, and she stared right back, her lips slightly parted. Then she looked down, eyelashes grazing her cheeks, her fingers trembling as she reached for their son.

"I'm going to put him to bed. We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

. . .

The following week, he was waiting in Central Park, standing at the duck pond and watching children throwing bread. Bella and Matty were due to meet him at 1:00 p.m., but it was already quarter past and he was starting to worry.

Somebody threw something heavy in the pond, the large splash startling the birds, causing them to flap their wings and skim the water in their haste to escape. Edward craned his head, spotting a group of teenagers standing across the water from him, laughing uproariously at their own foolish actions.

"I'm so sorry we're late." Bella's voice was thick, her eyes rimmed with red. Matty ran toward him and grabbed his suited legs, sticky fingers pulling at the worsted fabric.

"How did it go?" He didn't need to ask. Her expression said it all.

"My father was difficult. Told me I was just like my no-good mother. Then he called Irina who shouted down the phone, and I could hear her say Matty would be better off if we had him adopted." She was staring at the ground, her fingers twisting at her bracelet. He wanted to reach out and calm her movements.

"I should have gone with you. I wanted to." He was going to do it. He needed to; for her sake as well as his. He stepped forward, squaring his shoulders, one hand reaching out to touch her arm. She glanced up at him, eyes shiny, opening her mouth to say words that came out silent.

The next moment she was in his arms, her slim frame enveloped. Edward hesitated momentarily, trying to work out where best to put his hands, before placing them in the middle of her back, rubbing the thin material of her dress.

"I'm so sorry she said that," he murmured in her hair. "You know she's wrong, though. Matty's been the best thing that happened to both of us in a long time."

"He said he didn't know me," she sobbed into his shirt. "That he didn't _want_ to know me. I know I lied to him by omission, but he was so goddamned cruel." She lifted a hand from his arm and wiped her face, dark smudges of mascara smearing across her finger. "He reacted so much worse than you did, and you had so much more to blame me for."

"I've got so much more to thank you for, too." Edward scooped Matty up in his arms, the three of them holding each other like a real family. He wanted to close his eyes and inhale the aroma of happiness. "We still have a way to go before we sort everything out, but at least we're both willing to try."

They walked over to a bench, and he watched the way the muscles in her calves flexed with her movement. In the week they'd been back in New York, she'd caught the sun, spending her days with Matty in the park, showing him the animals and letting him run free across the grass.

In the evenings, Edward had come home to his apartment with a heart so full it was almost painful. To see her standing in the kitchen, preparing Matty's tea, cut him to the core. It was such a pleasant burn. He had to question himself; was he still attracted to her for who she was, or was he just wanting the perfect family unit? The way his cock stirred whenever she bent over or leaned down so that the smallest swell of breast was showing told him it was the former.

She was busy pulling Matty's lunch from her oversized bag, scrabbling around for her baby wipes and a bib. Matty leaned back on the bench, swinging his legs back and forth, and singing to himself using made-up words.

"Did your father even look at Matty?" Edward knew he was pulling at scabs, but found it hard to believe Charles would reject his own flesh and blood. It reminded him of a harsher, more painful confrontation he needed to have with his own mother. One he was putting off.

"Just a glance when Matty pulled some papers off his desk. Then he huffed and picked them up, telling me the office was no place for a child." She ripped the foil from the yogurt pot, dipping the spoon in before raising it to Matty's mouth.

"Maybe you need to give him time. He's had a lot to take in." He suppressed a smile, aware his words referred to himself as much as Charles Swan.

"I'll let him call me when he's ready; _if_ he's ever ready." Bella plucked a wipe and smeared it across Matty's face. He scrunched up his nose in protest, twisting his head to evade the cloth. She tickled him under the chin, enough to make him giggle, and then lunged forward, catching the yogurt before it dribbled from his chin. Her expression of victory was enough to make Edward grin, and she turned to catch his eye, her own smile brightening her features.

"What?" she asked.

"You were just looking so pleased with yourself," he replied. "Like catching a bit of yogurt was the same as winning a Pulitzer or something."

"If you've had to do as much laundry as I have, every dollop on a baby wipe is a major win." She leaned forward and rubbed a clean wipe on Edward's face, the sweet aroma of the cloth pervading his senses.

"Hey! I haven't eaten any yogurt today," he grinned, leaning forward to pick out another cloth. "If anybody needs cleaning up, it's you." She tried to scoot away, wriggling her behind along the bench. Edward mirrored her every move, following her like a stalking lion. He was inches away from her face, watching her expression change as she looked up at him, her breath hitching at his proximity.

Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips, a high color appearing on the apples of her cheeks. From the corner of his eye he could see Matty still swinging his legs, slowly eating a banana while he stared at the birds swooping down from the trees.

Edward leaned forward, dragging the wipe against Bella's skin, cleaning away the mascara smudges that had gathered after she'd cried over her father. Their gazes locked, and it was like a bubble had descended around them, cocooning their little family and blocking the rest of the world out. Their laughter faded beneath the intensity of their connection, lips loosening and dropping until it was replaced by need.

"Your skin is perfect," he whispered, his fingers dragging along her cheekbones, his attempts at cleaning her face abandoned. "I'd forgotten how soft it was."

Bella swallowed as he continued to caress. She reached out and put her hand under his jacket, sliding it against his stomach. The thin cotton of his shirt did nothing to dull the sensation of her touch. He wanted to pull it out from his waistband and push her hand inside, encourage it up until her palm rubbed against his bare chest. It wasn't enough just to look at her anymore. He needed to feel.

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?" The words escaped his lips in a rush. Bella's brows dipped in confusion, her hand gently squeezing his stomach.

"What about Matty? I can't leave him with a babysitter, not yet."

She hadn't said no. It made him smile.

"We'll have it at home. We can put Matty to bed, and I'll order in. Just the two of us, it will give us a chance to talk."

Her face lit up with a smile. "Yes, yes please. I'd love to have dinner with you."

Edward didn't care what it took; he was determined to do this right. He wanted to woo the hell out of this girl, to sweep her off her feet until she could never run again. They'd been careless before, letting love pour through their fingers like sand through an hourglass. Neither of them were innocent in the clusterfuck they'd found themselves in; they'd both given up before they should have.

This time he wouldn't let her get away.


	39. Chapter 38

**Fix You Chapter 38**

**May 2012**

"Try and keep still," Bella urged Matty, making a futile attempt to fasten his diaper before putting him in his pajamas. Matty laughed, kicking his legs in a bicycle-movement, trying to twist his body from the mat. She tapped his rump playfully, leaning in to blow a raspberry on his stomach, his soft skin vibrating loudly under her lips.

"No!" He wriggled again. "No that."

Bella stopped tickling him and looked up. "No that?" She tried to hide her excitement; she couldn't remember him ever stringing two words together before. Until now his communication had been limited to one-word sentences.

"No." Matty was firm.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then." She lifted him up to standing, rolling up the legs of his pajama pants and helping him to step into them. "You need to get some sleep, little man."

"No sleep." He was on a roll, making her laugh. She couldn't wait to tell Edward about this new development.

"That's right, Matty. No sleep yet, not until Daddy gets home." She pulled his top over his head, tugging to pull it down. "But then definitely sleep."

As soon as she finished dressing him, Matty escaped from her grasp, running across the pale wooden floor of his bedroom, to the floor-length window on the far side. The evening sun warmed his face, making him look golden, and he jumped up and down, pointing at the cars on the street below.

A crashing noise from the hallway made Bella turn away from the windows, her brow creasing in consternation. A moment later she could hear Edward's voice.

"Bella? Matty?" He sounded almost frantic. She'd barely stood up before he crashed through the door to Matty's bedroom, panting for breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He walked straight over, pulling her toward him, crushing her tight frame with his strong arms.

"Thank fuck." He tucked her head beneath his chin. "I had this horrible feeling you'd be gone."

This wasn't good. She put her arms around him, hands hesitantly rubbing his back. "Where would I go?"

Matty ran to them, squealing. Edward bent down and scooped him into his right arm, pulling Bella back to him with his left. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched, his eyes a blink away from hers. She could feel his warm breath washing over her face.

"Edward, what's happened?"

Matty grabbed Edward's face and pulled it away from Bella's, leaning down to push his own against it. "Da." He cupped his father's cheeks with his plump hands, laughing when Edward butterfly-kissed him with his eyelashes.

Edward inhaled deeply, managing to gain control of his breathing. He kissed Matty one more time before putting him on the floor, turning to face Bella once more, a look of fear moulding his features.

"I called my lawyer today, asked him if I could put some sort of restraining order on you to stop you leaving the country." He looked as though he was admitting to a mortal sin. Bella stepped backwards, trying to work out why her heart beat a little faster.

"What did he say?"

"He said I needed to talk to a shrink." Edward's laugh was dry and cold. "So I did. I talked to somebody."

"Oh." Her heart was racing now. Bella wondered whether it was fear or attraction making it speed.

"Bella, we've really fucked things up." His voice was gritty and deep. He reached his hand up and dragged it through his hair, causing the ends to stand up. "We have no trust."

"I trust you." Her voice was small.

"You don't. If you trusted me, you'd never have left; either time." He reached out a tentative hand, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. "You never once trusted in my love for you."

"And you don't trust I'll stay." Bella started to pick at the skin around her nails. She felt suddenly despondent. He was right; their lack of trust was like a huge mountain between them. "What did the shrink say?"

Edward smiled. "That I needed intense, expensive therapy."

Bella laughed in spite of herself.

"But seriously, I know no matter how much I want to, I can't handcuff you to the iron pipework, or file a lawsuit against you." He paused for a moment before carrying on. "If you don't want to stay, nothing I can do will change that."

"Edward, I—"

He held his hand up. "Please let me finish. When I was talking to the therapist, I realized something about myself. I may have told you I loved you, but I never really convinced you that you were worth loving. Every time you've left, it's because you thought I wanted—or deserved—something more. And every time you were wrong."

Matty grew bored of the conversation and ran over to his toy box, pulling out his favorite stuffed toy.

"You do deserve more." Her voice was small.

Edward shook his head. "You don't get to decide what I want, or what I need. I have to make something very clear to you before we even start to talk about the future." He ran a hand through his hair. "I've loved you since the day we met. I've always loved you, even when you've been far away and I haven't been able to see you." He stepped toward her, his hand caressing her neck. "If you ever want to leave, don't do it because you doubt my love for you. Do it because you don't want me, or because you want something better for yourself. I love you, Bella Swan. I'll always love you and there's nothing I want more than to have you in my life."

Bella could feel her lip tremble as his fingers tangled into her hair. She was going to cry, she knew it, but before she collapsed into his arms, she realized she needed to tell him something too.

"Edward ... " Her voice cracked, and the tears started to fall before she was ready. "I'm not going anywhere." She glanced across to Matty, noticing he was completely absorbed; playing a strange game with his teddy bear which involved lifting him onto his head before nodding, and watching him fall to the floor. Bella covered Edward's hand with her own, feeling the warmth of his fingers on her skin. "I've made so many mistakes, but I'm not going to subject Matty to any of that. He deserves to know you and to be with you. I could never take him away."

She looked at him through thick lashes, watching the way his mouth remained downturned. "And more than that, I don't want to go. I want to be with you, I want us to be a family." She glanced down at the floor, trying to find the right words. "I love you too. So much it makes me cry," she laughed through the tears, feeling them drip onto her chin. "I'll only leave if you tell me to."

"I'm never going to tell you to go," he whispered, brushing the wetness from her cheeks.

"Then you can take the handcuffs back to the shop." She glanced down again, feeling a blush stealing across her cheeks as she thought of other uses for them. Edward laughed, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

He brushed her neck with his thumb one last time, before pulling away, smiling wryly at her. "I was supposed to say this all at dinner. I guess I jumped the gun."

"It needed to be said." She felt her heart lift up in her chest. "I'm glad you did."

He glanced down, a small smile playing at his lips. "Well, I'm going to run you a bath, and I'll put Matty to bed and get dinner ready. Don't come out of your room until I tell you, okay?"

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "What have you got planned, Mr Cullen?"

Edward tapped his nose and winked. "Patience is a virtue, Miss Swan."

. . .

The bath was warm and fragrant, and she could barely bring herself to climb out. Her eyes were heavy with relaxation; her limbs feeling like somebody had removed the bones from them. She leaned across and blew out the lit candles, finally sitting up. The water sloshed around her waist, drying in rivulets across her body. Bella stepped out onto the fluffy mat, pulling a soft, cream towel around her chest.

She chose a plain, black dress; short enough to show her still-youthful legs to their best advantage, long enough not to embarrass Matty, were he ever to notice. She dried her hair quickly, growing bored of the preening and twisted it into a bun before applying some scant, natural make-up.

A knock at her door made her stand from the velvet-stool and walk across the soft carpet of her bedroom. She glanced in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall next to her bed, noticing how dark the shadows under her eyes were, wondering if it was from exhaustion, or a sign of age.

When she pulled open the heavy oak door, Edward was standing behind it, dressed in a pale-blue shirt and dark grey pants. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, and she felt her eyes scanning the dip of skin where his throat met his chest, following the sparse hair which led downwards.

She swallowed.

"Are you ready?" The left corner of his mouth curled up into a crooked grin. "Or did you want to invite me in for coffee?"

Bella burst out laughing. "Is it going to be _that_ kind of date?"

"I sincerely hope so." He reached out and took her hand. "But I should feed you first."

He pulled her into the hall, her bare feet padding on the pale wooden floor. Edward raised his hands and placed them on her shoulders, his eyes scanning her body. "You look beautiful."

She smiled. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself." She chided herself for making the understatement of the year. His cotton shirt moulded to his body, revealing muscles in all the right places. It was tucked into his pants which fell from his hips in the most delicious way.

"Thank you." He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he turned and walked her down to the dining room, his arm loosely slung around her shoulders. Bella leaned into him, his body warming hers through the thin fabric of their clothes.

The table was set with a heavy white cloth. The cutlery was laid precisely, two wine glasses at each setting. In the middle, a silver candelabra held three tapered candles, glowing from the flames flickering above. Edward pulled her chair out, and she sat down, letting him push her back in.

"This looks amazing." Bella looked around the room, her eyes wide with excitement. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"I wanted to." His voice was thick as he walked over to the sideboard, pulling their plates from the warmer. "I told you I want to do this properly."

As he sat down opposite, he reached for the bottle of Merlot, pouring them each an over-full glass. Bella wondered who he was trying to get drunk; her or himself.

"Did Matty go down all right?" She asked him, lifting her cutlery and spearing a piece of carrot with her fork.

"Fine. He was asleep before I even got to the second page of his book. He must have worn himself out at the park."

Or maybe he knew his parents needed a little alone-time, Bella thought.

"You're so good with him." She glanced up. "Thank you."

Edward shrugged. "I'm his father."

"I know, I remember the conception." Her cheeks burned. God, she wanted to whack herself around the head for her inappropriate comments. She reached out and picked up her wine glass, tipping her head back to take a large mouthful.

"So do I," Edward replied softly.

She couldn't look at him; she couldn't. Yet her eyes drew up as if pulled by magnets, and she bit her lip in an attempt to stem the flow of her words.

"I'm so embarrassed," she admitted, making Edward laugh.

"Don't be. You always were honest. It's one of the things I love about you."

_Love_. She swooned again, wanting to pour the whole wine bottle down her throat. Her body was tense with anticipation.

"You know, I was thinking today, in between talking to my lawyer and the shrink, that we're essentially an old married couple." He lifted the bottle of merlot and topped up both their glasses. "We live together, have a child together, and we spend the evenings talking deep into the night about things which concern us most." He glanced up at her through thick, dark lashes. "All that's missing is the sex."

Bella spluttered, coughing out her mouthful of wine. She lifted the napkin from her lap and used it to dab at her mouth, wishing she could hide herself behind it.

"And the ring," Edward continued. "We're missing that too."

"Don't forget the fabulous wedding album. We can look at it and reminisce all about the way our families fought and hated us, and ended up throwing plates at each other." She grinned at him. "No old married couple are complete without that."

Edward raised his eyebrows at her. "I'm not kidding. I know we have a lot to work through, but eventually I intend to marry you. I want you and Matty to be Cullens."

Bella wanted it too. She wanted it so much she could barely bring herself to imagine it. She thought she might die if it were taken away from her now. She could picture it so vividly; the ring on her finger, the kisses before he left for work. His arrival home, scooping Matty up into his arms, walking over to her and kissing the hell out of her.

_The babies_.

Christ, she needed to calm down. She was getting ahead of herself. They needed to take this slowly for Matty's sake as well as theirs. Neither of them should run into the fire without preparing themselves for the burn.

"I'd like us to be yours." It was an evening for truths. She wasn't going to hide behind her insecurities any more. Life had taught her that road only led to trouble and misery.

Edward's smile was brilliant, his eyes watery as hers when she glanced up at him. He reached out to touch her hand, running his finger from her knuckles to her wrist. Her skin erupted into goosebumps, tiny hairs standing up on her flesh as she closed her eyes, feeling the intensity of their connection.

Eventually they finished their meal, taking the plates and cutlery to the kitchen, and loading up the dishwasher together. Every now and then Edward would take something from her, his hand lingering on hers, long enough to let her know exactly how he felt.

It was electrifying.

When the room was clear, Edward picked up their glasses and the half-empty wine bottle, carrying them over to the sofa. He put them down on the smoked glass coffee table, patting the seat next to him. His eyes were dark and intense as he watched Bella walk over, her expression betraying her trepidation.

"What are you thinking?" he murmured, twisting his body until he was facing her.

"I'm scared," she replied, almost impressed by her own honesty.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't put out on first dates." He winked and picked up her glass, passing it to her.

"I do." She took a large sip. Edward's laughter was drowned by the blanket of attraction covering them both. "I'm not sure we've ever really made it to a first date, have we?"

Edward screwed up his face in thought. "Not that I remember."

"Although you did take me to a restaurant for a date about ten years ago," Bella smiled. "I think you introduced me to one of your exes."

He laughed. "That wasn't a date."

"It was!" she protested. "Well, I thought it was. I took you to a concert, you took me out to dinner. It felt like a date to me."

"If I took you out for a date, I certainly wouldn't introduce you to my ex," he replied pointedly. "I like to think I have more class than that."

It was Bella's turn to laugh. "Oh my god, you're unbelievable. Your memory is so selective I'm scared you're losing your mind." She leaned forward and put her glass down before hitting him on the arm. He grabbed her wrist, his eyes staring down at her hand. He looked at her pointedly, pulling her toward him until their faces were inches away. She blinked twice, her stomach contracting at the intensity of his gaze.

"I remember every single moment with you, Bella. I remember how young and surprised you looked the first time I saw you, when you were standing next to that god-awful Christmas tree in my father's house. I remember how your eyes lit up when I saw you in the pub in the Cotswolds, watching some shit band desperate to become world famous." His lips were curled in a smile, only inches away from her own. She was desperate to breach the distance. "I remember the way you looked underneath me, the first time we made love. Your eyes were so bright and wide, and your lips trembled as I moved inside you." He closed the distance, his breath washing over her skin. "I remember every single, fucking minute, Bella. _That's_ what makes me lose my mind."

Edward crashed his mouth against hers, his hand cupping the back of her head, tipping it back until her face was looking up at him. She reached out and put her hand on his neck, feeling his soft, short hair as it graduated into his neckline, her fingers caressing his tender skin.

His tongue danced along her bottom lip, and she touched it with her own, feeling it brush against her, plunging into her mouth. She moaned against him, her eyes shut tight, wanting to feel every part of his body on hers. He pulled her closer until their chests were touching, but it still wasn't enough, her body demanded more. She clambered over him, straddling his legs, and he cupped her ass, dragging her body against him. Their chests touched, and she arched her back, her nipples singing in response to his proximity.

"Jesus." He pulled away, eyes gleaming. "I've missed you so much." He moved in again, kissing her hard until they were both breathless. She didn't want it to end.

"I want you to take me to bed." She was so desperate to feel him naked against her, on top of her, inside her. It was like her body was awake for the first time in years. She needed to know he felt the same way.

"Bella ... " He kept her close against him, his fingers tangled in her hair. "I want it too. But we need to take this slowly."

She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time taking control, easing her tongue into his mouth, grinding herself down on him until she could feel his excitement growing beneath her. He grabbed her behind, standing up and wrapping her legs around his waist, and she threw her arms around his neck, never once breaking their kiss.

"You've persuaded me," he said, his lips moving against hers. "Fuck taking it slowly." He strode across the living room, heading for the door, breaking their kiss so he could look up and find the handle. As he was about to push it down, the telephone in the hall rang, the tone indicating it was the concierge calling.

"Give me a minute." He put her down and walked over, lifting up the handset. Bella watched as the intense excitement melted from his features, her body already feeling the absence of his warm embrace.

"Okay, thank you." He put the receiver back on the cradle with a clatter, running a hand through his messed-up hair as he stared at her apologetically.

"That was the front desk …

My mother's on her way up."

* * *

**A/N - Sorry for the c-block, but the next chapter will be up on Wednesday. I'm going to hole up in a cave and see you then *winks***

**All the love in the world to Fran and Sparrow - they keep me on the straight and narrow, and sort out my screw-ups. **

**I loved your reviews - and hopefully I responded to most of them with a teaser. If you have any questions / observations I'm happy to chat via PM, and I'm also on Facebook and Twitter (see links in my profile). I have a Facebook Group which is always fun, and I often post teasers there.**

**Have a great weekend, Choc xx**


	40. Chapter 39

**Fix You Chapter 39**

**May 2012**

There was a loud knock on the door. Edward walked forward and unlatched the lock; the muscles in his back tensing as pulled the heavy door ajar. The light from the hallway spilled across the wooden floor, and he stepped back to let his mother through.

Elizabeth Black entered the room wearing a pink chiffon cocktail dress, with a matching wrap draped across her shoulders. She had pulled her blonde hair back from her face with a barrette, revealing smooth features which belied her age. Though Edward had never asked, he assumed some of her yearly vacations involved interactions with scalpels and over-expensive surgeons. She certainly had enough money for it.

Whoever they were, they'd done a good job.

"Do you want to tell me what the hell _she's_ doing here?" Elizabeth gestured at Bella with a manicured hand. She pulled her plump lips back into a scowl, though any accompanying lines were noticeably absent. "Actually, don't bother; I've heard it all from Irina Swan. She seemed delighted to tell the whole gala about my new grandson." She glanced over at Bella, her nose wrinkled with disdain. "I can't believe you're letting Bella fool you with her white trash lies."

Edward could feel the anger bubbling beneath his skin, his face heating up as he stared at her with disdain. She held her thin frame tall as if she was the wronged party in all of this, making him want to wring her scrawny neck and scream at her. She needed to know what he'd lost because of her lies. Her calmness only served to irritate him.

"I don't think you want to start taking the high ground here." He spat, unable to hide his bitterness. "Because you're going to fall."

Elizabeth laughed. It was a thin, fragile chuckle, which made him wince. "I have never been so embarrassed in my life." She pulled at the diamond pendant hanging from her neck. "_'Oh, I hear you're a grandmamma, Elizabeth. Didn't you know Edward and Bella have a child together? How awful, they've kept it a secret.'" _Her sarcasm cut through the room like a knife through butter.

Edward reached for Bella's hand, not wanting her to be hidden. He wanted her next to him—needed her beside him—and he had to show her he wasn't ashamed of their relationship. He was proud she wanted to be his, wanted to show the world what he'd found.

"Well, that's just perfect." Elizabeth sneered, staring at him as he pulled Bella into his arms. "What the hell does she do to make you run back every time? Is she good in bed, is that what it is? Because there are people you can pay for sex …"

Bella pulled her body from Edward, stepping forward with her hand outstretched. He watched as her open palm made contact with his mother's face. The impact was hard enough to cause Elizabeth to stagger backward.

"Don't you dare compare me to a whore," Bella hissed, and Edward had to clench his hands together to stop himself from applauding. "I'd be grateful if you could keep your voice down, there's a sleeping child in this house."

A livid red line formed across his mother's cheekbone. She stared at Edward with sparks beneath her eyes, her face twisted with anger. "Are you going to let her talk to me like that? She assaulted me," Elizabeth demanded of him.

"I don't 'let' Bella do anything. She's her own woman, and she's welcome to do whatever she wants in _our_ home." He could feel his heartbeat elevating as it clattered against his chest. He wanted to pull Bella against him, and give her some reassurance. "But if you ever compare her to a whore again, I'll throw you out in the streets like a stray bitch."

Elizabeth shrank noticeably, her eyes starting to water. "Why are you so angry at me? I'm not the one who lied to you about a child, or suddenly walked in years later pretending it was yours." She patted down an errant strand of hair. "Have you even had a DNA test?"

Edward glowered. "Matty_ is_ mine; I don't need a DNA test to tell me the truth." He glanced along the corridor, his eyes resting on the closed door to Matty's bedroom. "I'm angry at you, because the only reason Bella didn't tell me she was pregnant was because of your goddamned lies." His voice was getting louder. He needed to get his anger under control.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Elizabeth's voice was dismissive as she rubbed her cheek. "I've never lied to Bella."

"You did!" Bella replied, her voice watery. She was trembling like a frightened animal beneath his embrace. "I called Edward's cell phone and you picked up. You told me Lauren was never going to be able to walk again."

Elizabeth laughed shrilly, making Edward's blood run cold. "I think I'd remember something like that. When did you call?"

"When I found out I was pregnant. In June 2010." Bella replied, wrapping her hand around Edward's waist, looking for something to cling to.

Elizabeth shook her head, the tiniest of lines forming between her eyebrows. She blinked a couple of times before looking at Edward, her expression accusatory. "June 2010, wasn't that when you told Lauren you didn't want to marry her?"

Edward thought for a moment, letting Bella's hand on his waist calm him. It was hard to remember the events of two years ago, though certain dates were etched in his mind. Like the month he had told Lauren he didn't want to be with her, or the June he flew to London to find Bella had disappeared again.

His stomach turned over as a memory flashed through his mind. He could remember his mother calling him at work, telling him he had left his cell phone at home. She had been at his apartment with Lauren, helping her to pack her things. Elizabeth had offered to have his cell couriered into the office.

"When you spoke to Bella, Lauren and I were already separated?" He curled his fingers into a fist, feeling the need to hit out. Every single moment of the past two years were for nothing. They'd been so close to their forever, to having everything they'd ever wanted. A few careless words from his mother had been enough to bring it all tumbling down. "You told her Lauren was crippled when we'd already split up?"

"I thought you'd change your mind about Lauren … " Elizabeth whispered, her voice trailing off.

Beside him Bella had her hand clasped firmly over her mouth, the horror of the situation making the tears run down her face. Edward wondered if she had the urge to lash out and hit something—anything—the way he did. The anger was too much; he didn't know how to control it without exploding.

"You remember telling her Lauren was crippled?"

Elizabeth nodded, her body cowering away from him. He was aware he was acting like a madman; his body coiled like a snake ready to pounce. Only Bella's hold on him was enough to anchor him to the ground, to stop him from doing something he might later regret.

"Why the hell would you do that? Do you realize Bella was calling to tell me she was pregnant? I lost eighteen months of my son's life because of you."

His mother put her hand up to her chest, clutching with her aged hand. "I didn't know … "

"You knew enough to send Bella packing. You knew enough to not even tell me I'd had a call on my cell. Don't play the innocent in this, you're guilty as hell." His body was so tense he wanted to scream, to lash out … to do anything to let the tension go. Every moment standing in front of his mother was a reminder of what he'd so very nearly lost.

"Did Lauren know about the call?" His voice dripped with acid.

Elizabeth shook her head, her face distraught as she stepped forward, reaching out her hand. "Edward, you don't have to do this. We can speak to the lawyers, arrange for you to have custody. You don't need to have Bella living here."

It took a moment for her words to sink into his consciousness. She wanted him to leave Bella and take Matty away from her. The callousness of her suggestion was the nail in the coffin of their relationship. He wanted to get her far away from his family, so she was unable to poison them the same way she'd tried with him.

He hugged Bella tighter, burying his face in her hair for a moment, kissing the silky strands.

"We'd like you to leave now." His voice was muffled by Bella's hair. He couldn't look at his mother, or bring himself to show her out. Nausea swelled in his stomach as he recalled her final words to Bella on the day of the terrible phone call. He felt bitterly ironic as he addressed his mother; "Don't come back again."

"Ever?" Elizabeth's voice raised an octave. Bella stepped back from Edward and placed a reassuring palm on his chest. She shook her head lightly, as if to tell him to hold fire. Deep down he knew she was right; he shouldn't make snap decisions in the burning heat of his anger, but it took all the strength he had not to manhandle his mother out of the door.

Her blatant dislike of Bella disgusted him.

"Not here. I don't want you anywhere near my son or my wife." Bella gasped as he said the words. "I know I can't avoid you at Black Enterprises, but I don't intend to let you anywhere near my private life."

"But I'm your mother." Elizabeth pulled herself up to her full height. "I deserve your respect. I can't believe you're choosing her over me. Stop this nonsense."

Edward gestured at the door, shooing his hand like he was dismissing a dog. "I'm just grateful I get to choose. I've found choice a very scarce option in the past few years."

Elizabeth gave him a final, angry glance, her thin lips pursed as she shook her head and reached for the door. As he watched her retreating back he felt nothing but relief. It was like the final block to his future had been smashed to smithereens. He allowed a small smile to tug at his mouth.

After Elizabeth left, Bella seemed muted, like somebody had painted her over with a grey-wash. He wanted to steal back the moments to when he had her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist. Things had seemed so joyful and easy; he didn't know how to recapture that feeling.

"I think I'm going to bed. It's been a long day." Bella gave him a wan smile. "Hopefully things will seem less bleak in the morning."

He knew she was right. The moment had passed, for now, and they needed to give themselves time to let the wounds heal over. It didn't make him feel any less disappointed, though.

"If it makes you feel any better, the worst is really over. Our parents know, and none of their reactions were unexpected." He tried to reassure her.

"Even Carlisle and Esme are angry with me," Bella replied.

Edward shook his head. "They're not. They were shocked, and surprised, but I spoke with Esme today and they're planning on visiting soon. They're so excited to have you and Matty in their lives."

He reached forward and cupped her cheek with his palm. Her skin was soft and damp with tears. Edward ran his thumb across her high cheekbone, and pushed his fingers into her hair, pulling her toward him until her face was buried in his chest.

"I forgot to tell you, Alice called today. She's coming back next week." Bella's voice was muffled by his shirt. "She wanted to know how you felt about Jasper coming with her."

Edward laughed, his chest vibrating against her face. "Does she really want to know?"

Bella pulled back, lifting her head to his, her eyes crinkled with amusement. "Not really. I told her to call you directly." She ran a finger along his stubbled jaw. "You're not going to give her a hard time are you? I think the two of them are meant for each other."

Edward winced at the thought of his sister being meant for _anybody_. "I suppose it would give me a chance to have a frank talk with Jasper," he replied, his tone teasing.

"Poor Jasper, I suppose it's a good job I don't have a big brother to come and hunt you down."

Edward's face grew serious. "I wish you did have someone who would have hunted me down. I know Jasper was on your side, and eventually he told Alice, but an angry guy with a shotgun could have prevented so much misery."

"By burying you underground before you even met Matty?"

Edward shook his head. "No, by looking after you and making sure I lived up to my responsibilities. I promised you I'd call you and I didn't."

"You said you'd find me after you'd sorted things with Lauren. I didn't wait. We wasted so much time."

Her hand still lingered on his face. He turned his head to kiss her fingertips, his body reacting as she stroked them along his lip. He watched through heavy lids as her mouth opened, and she pulled her full bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it in a way that send heat straight to his groin. She plunged her thumb into his mouth, her expression leaving him in no doubt about her feelings toward him.

"You should get some sleep." His voice was heavy with emotion. He wanted to follow Bella into her bedroom and drag the clothes from her body. He wanted to comfort her with every inch of his own. But he told himself to take things slowly, regardless of how desperate he was to be inside her. They had the rest of their lives to be together, he wanted to do this right.

Bella nodded. "It's been a long day." She smiled wanly, her hand reaching out to stroke his handsome face. "You should get some sleep too."

"I need to finish up some work before I go to bed." He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, regardless of the fatigue weighing him down. The knowledge she was only a room away was certain to keep him awake.

Edward leaned forward, brushing his lips across her soft cheek. "Sweet dreams, Bella." Digging his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from carrying her to his bed, he turned around and walked to the office, aware of her eyes burning a hole in his back.

He hated taking this slowly.

. . .

Bella slept fitfully, the covers weighing down on her body making her feel sensitive and overheated. She almost woke herself up, thrashing in the bed, perspiration beading on her chest, as a rivulet ran down into her cleavage.

In her dream she could see Matty and Edward. She was standing on dry, arid ground, her feet glued to the earth as her boys ran away from her, until they were just tiny figures in the distance. She screamed at them to wait, but they didn't hear her. So she tried to run, feeling the earth crumbling beneath her bare feet, but made no progress, perpetually moving yet staying in the same place.

"No ..." She started to cry, wanting to catch them up, watching through a curtain of tears as they walked farther into the red horizon. Her legs gave way, her body crumpling into the hot, dusty ground, and she hammered her fists against it, tears dropping onto the parched earth.

"Bella." She heard Edward's voice, and in her dream she saw him turn, his movements halting when he noticed her crumpled form. "Bella, can you hear me."

"Come back." She was vaguely aware of her dream-like state being invaded by reality, the image of Edward and Matty fading into the fog of her consciousness.

"It's just a bad dream, baby. Wake up." She could feel Edward's cool palm stoking her face, and she blinked, trying to open her heavy eyelids.

"Am I awake now?" She couldn't tell reality from imagination, but she reached out to touch his hand, stilling it as he tried to calm her.

"Yes you are," he replied. There was amusement in his voice. "Would you like some water?"

She sat up, her eyes adjusting to the half-light. Her heart was hammering against her chest. "Yes please." She glanced at the alarm clock; the hazy red glow of numbers telling her it was 1.30 a.m.

"Here, take a sip." His voice was low as he lifted the glass to her lips, his eyes dark as she swallowed the cool liquid. Bella let the water moisten her mouth, feeling it cool her as it slipped down her throat.

"I'm sorry I woke you."

"I haven't been to sleep yet," Edward admitted. "I was trying to finish off some work.

A glance at his attire told her he was speaking the truth. His white cotton shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and rolled up to reveal strong forearms, peppered with hair. His shirt had come untucked from his pants, hanging loosely to his hips, wrinkled from a long evening of work.

"I went to check on Matty when I heard you call my name. I thought you must be having a good dream." There was a smile in his voice. "Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be a nightmare."

Bella closed her eyes, trying to erase the image of her boys so far away in the distance. "You kept running away from me." She swallowed, still tasting the arid dirt in her mouth. Edward, sensing her need, lifted the glass to her lips once again.

"I'll never run away from you." His voice was thick with emotion. "That should have been enough to tell you it was a dream."

Tears stung at Bella's eyes, pooling on the rims, making her vision blur. Edward reached out to stroke her hair, his fingers gentle as he caressed he neck, moving his fingers down to her bare shoulders.

"You're driving me crazy," he confessed, tracing tiny circles on her skin. "Every part of you is so smooth and tender."

Her breath hitched. Memories from earlier in the evening played on her mind; vivid reminders of how close they had come to consummating their burgeoning relationship. As he sat on the bed, his strong body dwarfing hers, she found herself wanting to submit to his possession.

He drew a line up her spine with his hand, resting on her neck for a moment before he dragged it around, spreading his fingers across her throat.

"Just here," he whispered, "I can feel your pulse jumping beneath your skin, and the way your breath catches in your throat.

Bella said nothing, watching his green eyes heat up, his tongue snaking out to moisten his lips.

He moved his hand to her chest, to the dip between her breasts, his fingers strong against her damp skin. "And here, I can feel how fast your heart is beating." He splayed his fingers out, moving his palm until it brushed across her nipple, his rough skin causing her sensitive peak to harden. She gasped as a pleasurable sensation shot straight between her legs.

He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the pleasure becoming a steady pulse between her thighs. She looked at him beneath half-closed lids, his face dark as it revealed an expression of raw emotion.

"Please kiss me." She arched her body against him, her lips trembling as he leaned down to capture them. His soft breath fanned against her face, warming and exciting her. He took his time, his kiss slow and soft, making her want so much more. He dragged his lips from hers, his tongue snaking a trail down her neck.

"Edward …" She closed her eyes and felt the sensation of his lips sucking at her skin. It made her nipples pebble, the heat between her thighs becoming damp and needy.

Edward tugged at her camisole, pulling it from her body, and pushing her shorts down until she was a naked, quivering mess.

"You're so beautiful." His stare was heated, and she felt her body reflect the warmth of it. "Every single inch of you is perfect." He reached out to touch her neck with the pad of his finger, drawing a line from it to her breasts, teasing her nipple before following the line to her stomach. She felt herself flinch with embarrassment as he traced the faded silver lines of her stretch-marks

"They're really ugly." Bella reached out to take his hand, trying to move it from her stomach.

"They're not ugly, they're amazing." Edward shook his head, leaning down to kiss them with an open mouth. "They're a reminder of what we made, of what you carried. They're you." He followed them with his lips, leading to the base of her hips, his breath hot as he stared at her body. His hands were soft yet firm on her thighs as he gently urged them apart. She could feel him blow against her fevered center, his lips worshipping her body, as his words did her soul. He pushed his tongue inside, steadying her flailing thighs with his strong hands. She moaned loudly, bucking against him, hands curling into his coarse hair as he dragged her to a peak.

Bella closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the sensation, her body tensing beneath his touch. She could hear herself gasping as he increased the pressure, pulling her to the edge, her hands gripping the sheets as he pushed her over, her insides clenching with pleasure as she moaned his name over and again. She arched her back, her orgasm suffusing her body until she was only half aware of reality.

She was vaguely aware of him shedding his clothes as she came back down from her high. He drew himself up, his body heavy on hers. His hardness dug into her hip, its heavy weight as reassuring as its rigidity. She reached down and curled her hands around him, running her thumb around the tip, spreading the moisture beading there.

"Do I need a condom?" His voice was urgent, and she felt him pump against her hand. She squeezed tighter, drawing a moan from his lips.

"I'm covered."

And she was; every inch of her was dominated by his body above her. She closed her eyes, trying not to cry out as she felt him line up against her; his tip stretching her as he tried to still his hips. He was everything she remembered; everything she wanted and hoped he would be. She was drowning beneath his touch.

"Open your eyes." His voice was rough in her ear. Her lids fluttered open, tears spilling out as she returned his heated gaze, her heart stuttering as she saw the intense emotion behind his stare. His lips were dry above his tense jaw, and she reached out a finger and ran the tip across his mouth.

"Please, Edward ... " She pushed against his hips. He reached down to still her movement, his heated gaze locked on her. Her heart pounded against her rib cage.

"Give me a moment," he begged. She stopped moving and gazed back at him. They breathed heavily in unison, and she waited for him to move, and strip away the last fragment of sanity remaining in her grasp.

"Now." He flexed his hips, sliding inside until she was so full it made her gasp. The sensation was overwhelming, and she could feel hot tears slide down her cheeks, her emotions too raw to contain.

"I love you ..." Her words were breath. They danced through the air like an invisible thread, drawing them together.

"Love you ..." A gasp, a promise. He said it again, just to hear the words.

His lips crashed against hers, their tongues tangling as her salty tears mixed with their kiss. She reached up, her hand cupping his jaw, her eyes gleaming with every emotion he wrung from her body.

"Love ..."  
. . .

They lay wrapped in each other, his body moulded to hers so she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. When Bella finally woke up the next morning Edward was already dressed, and Matty was in bed with her, his chubby arms wrapped around her neck.

"He's been awake for a while," Edward admitted, the dark circles beneath his eyes a testament to his broken sleep. "I brought him in to bed with us just before six."

"He's such a monkey." She grinned, burying her head in Matt's soft curls, inhaling the powdery aroma of his baby shampoo. "Are you leaving already?"

"I've got an eight o'clock meeting." Edward was knotting his tie, and she wanted to reach out and drag him back into bed with it. After last night's revelations she felt exhausted, like she could sleep for a thousand years. If she was going to hibernate, she wanted him there with her.

"I meant to ask you something last night." Matty sat up and crawled across the bed, launching himself at Edward's suit-clad legs. Edward caught him just in time, making him laugh as he swung him up in the air. "That therapist you spoke to yesterday, does he give discounts for referrals?"

Edward caught her eye, his expression soft as he smiled at her. "I'm an expert negotiator."

"I want us to make a fresh start. Maybe we can talk things through with him as a couple?"

She knew their history couldn't be erased in a few moments of bliss. Edward's frantic arrival yesterday told her they had issues they needed to resolve. For the first time, she felt confident they could work through them together.

"I'll call him this morning," he promised, leaning down to capture her lips with his own. He dropped Matty onto the mattress next to her, and he bounced on the springs, liking it so much that he scrambled to his feet and jumped up again.

"Meet me for lunch today," Edward asked, shrugging his jacket on. She stared at him, trying not to lick her lips as she took in his gorgeous body, perfectly attired in a Gucci suit.

"You really want to let this one loose in your office?" Matty was still bouncing, and Bella pulled him towards her, grabbing him around the waist as she tickled his belly.

"I'll get Heidi to order some toys in. I can't go a whole day without seeing you." His brows knitted into a frown. "Maybe we need to talk to the shrink about co-dependency as well."

Bella laughed. "We may as well get our money's worth. We'll be able to throw in parental abandonment, too."

Edward leaned across the bed and kissed her again. "Are you sure you're okay after yesterday? It seems like the worst is over for now."

"I feel surprisingly fine. It wasn't as if we didn't expect your mom to go ape-shit. As for my dad, we'll just have to see where things go." She let Matty curl his arms around her neck, his face buried in her shoulder. "The two most important people in my world are in this room. I don't care about anything else.

"I'm going to miss you this morning." He ruffled Matty's hair, causing him to squeal in protest, "both of you."

"If you don't leave soon you're going to miss your meeting," she pointed out, learning forward to push him away from the bed. Edward caught her wrists in his hands, pulling her toward him until her face was buried in his chest, Matty sandwiched between them as he wriggled with amusement.

"I'd prefer to stay here," he murmured, burying his head in her hair.

"Go!" She laughed, and he released her, pressing a final kiss on each of them.

"I'll see you at twelve," he reminded her as he left. She picked up a rolled up pair of socks and threw it after him, missing by a mile.

Pulling Matty into a hug, she watched Edward's retreating back, a warm fire of contentment burning in her body. She couldn't stop the smile from creeping across her face as she realized that finally, after so much time, they'd both got exactly what they wanted.

Each other.

* * *

**A/N There is one more chapter to go, plus an epilogue. I'm going to save the maudlin authors note for the next chapter, which will be posted on Saturday.  
**

**SunflowerFran beta'd this with hardly any notice - she rocks big. SparrowNotes24 is my beautiful pre-reader, and I love her to bits.**

**And thanks to those who read, and for all the reviews - I always love hearing what you think. I'm going to post a final teaser on my facebook group before the weekend - if you haven't joined me there, the link is on my profile page (I'm also on twitter).  
**

**See you at the weekend, Choc**


	41. Chapter 40

**Fix You Chapter 40**

**December 31****st**** 2012**

The caterers had arrived at the crack of dawn to prepare the house for the annual New Year's Eve gathering. Bella watched them in the kitchen creating tray after tray of canapés and desserts, her heart clenching as she remembered the way Renee would direct proceedings, her radio in one hand and a cell phone in the other, shouting down both mouthpieces at the same time.

"Are you okay?" Esme reached out a hand and stroked her cheek. Bella smiled at her soft touch. "I'm so happy you agreed to come."

"We wouldn't be anywhere else."

The three of them had flown into London on Christmas Eve, planning to spend the festivities with Carlisle and Esme. The entire family had delighted in sharing their first Christmas with Matty. Bella fell in love with them all over again as their adoration for her son was evident in everything they did.

"It must bring back memories, though." Esme's smile was kind. "Sometimes I find it so hard to believe your mother isn't with us anymore."

Tears formed in the corners of Bella's eyes. She reached up to wipe them away, determined not to spoil the day with sad memories. She was ready to make good ones—for Matty and the rest of the family—but it was hard to forget the past.

"I'm so sad she never got to meet Matty. She would have loved to watch him run around the house like it's a giant playground." Bella closed her eyes for a moment. She could almost picture Renee's delighted smile.

"You know, if she could see you now, she'd be as proud of you as I am." Esme pulled her into an embrace, and Bella wrapped her arms around her, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to be loved.

"Do you really think so? I'm pretty sure if she was here now, she'd be hitting me around the head with a wooden spoon."

Esme didn't reply, and after a moment Bella pulled back to look at her. Esme's face had frozen, and Bella was fearful enough to reach out and give her arm a little shake.

"Oh my goodness, Bella, I forgot about the recordings." Esme put a hand against her chest, looking crestfallen. "All those messages she left for you. They're in a box in the study."

"Recordings?" Bella asked, confused. "What recordings?"

"Don't you remember our project, the one in the nursing home? Renee recorded messages for you. I was supposed to give them to you at specific times; your wedding, your first child. I can't believe I forgot. I should have given you the first one when I learned about Matty."

"Can I listen to it now?" Bella could feel the excitement course through her body. In the years since Renee's death, her memories of her had become thinner, like a piece of elastic pulled too tight. Sometimes she couldn't remember exactly how she sounded. And now, to know there was a recording—and those words were meant for her—it was almost too much to bear.

"Of course you can." Esme grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen, and they made their way down to the basement. In the corner, behind a large oak door, was Carlisle's office.

"What did you use to record her?" Bella was all too aware of the deterioration qualities of certain medium.

"I used a Dictaphone, and had them put onto a CD. Renee was very specific."

Inside the office, Esme pulled a CD from the shelf. The blank, plastic cover reflected the light streaming through the window. She passed it to Bella who held it for a moment, turning the plastic sleeve over in her hands. Her mind went back to those dark days of 2005, when Renee's death had caused her to lose so much more than just a mother.

"I don't know if you want to listen to them all, or just the one about your first child. After all you've been through, I don't think Renee would be angry if you wanted more."

"I think I want to hear them all, if I can." She hugged the CD to her chest. "Do you think I'll have time before the boys are back?"

Carlisle and Edward had taken Matty to the park, hoping to wear him out enough for him to sleep through the party. Bella suspected it might be Carlisle and Edward who turned out to be exhausted when they got back.

"We didn't get to record too much. She was very weak; she couldn't talk for too long." Esme bit her lip, looking down at the floor. "If they get back before you finish, I'll stall them."

"Will you stay for the first one?" Bella wasn't sure if she could listen alone. She already felt jittery, like the merest touch could send her on a crying jag.

"I'll stay as long as you want, sweetheart."

Bella pulled the black CD player toward them, lifting the lid to place the first shiny disc inside. She started to press play, but Esme shook her head, leaning forward to press the forward button. "Why don't you listen to the one about your first child? It seems the appropriate place to start."

"Okay." Bella nodded, sitting down on Carlisle's expensive black chair. There was a small crackle from the speakers before a slight hum started, signalling the recording was working.

"_Bella…"_ Renee's voice was thin, like a leaf on the wind. Hearing it transported her back to a time when she was a daughter, not a mother. "_I'm not sure how this works anymore. I've recorded a message for your wedding, but so many people have children before they get married. Either way, I want to tell you how proud I am of you._" There was a pause, followed by soft murmuring. She could imagine Esme helping Renee to drink some water. "_Congratulations, my beautiful girl, on having a child of your own. I know you'll make a great mother, like you were the best daughter. I'm only sorry I can't be there to hold my grandchild in my arms, and to reassure you whenever you start second guessing yourself." _There was another pause, and this time Bella could feel the tears start to pour down her face. She didn't bother to wipe them away; there were too many, and she needed to let them out. "_If I had to give you one piece of advice as one mother to another, it would be to savor everything. Being a mother isn't easy, but every moment is a gift, and it's been my privilege to watch you grow up into the amazing girl you are today. Make sure you take the time to enjoy being a mother. Play, sing, dance with your child. Don't let time steal these precious moments away from you." _Bella was openly sobbing now, her body wrapped in Esme's arms. "_I love you so much, Bella; you and my grandchild. I'll always be here, in your memories and your heart."_

The white noise of the recording faded away to nothing, and Bella reached out her hand, wanting to stop the CD before it progressed to the next section. She was going to listen to them all—she needed to—but first she had to take some time to assimilate the miracle of hearing her dead mother's voice.

"Thank you," she whispered into Esme's shoulders, as the older woman held her tightly. "I'm so grateful you gave this to me."

Esme said nothing, reaching out a hand to wipe the tears from Bella's cheeks. Her light blue eyes were soft and kind, and Bella could see the love spilling out of them. She was so lucky, to have had a loving mother, and now a caring surrogate. She was determined to look after Matty the way they'd both taken care of her.

. . .

Edward returned a little after 4 p.m., carrying a tired Matty in his arms. Carlisle trailed behind them, his whole demeanor that of a broken man. Bella had cleaned up her face, having listened to the recording twice before putting the CD back in its box. She planned to take it back home when they flew back to New York.

Laying Matty down on the sofa, Edward pulled his tiny shoes from his feet and unzipped his bulky jacket. Bella reached out to cup her son's cheeks, cold and rosy from the London wind, making Matty giggle at her touch, as he tried to fight against the fatigue claiming his body.

"Did Daddy wear you out?" She asked, and Edward laughed as he pulled her into an embrace.

"Matty wore us out, that's for sure," he said, running his lips across her neck. She reacted automatically, her body firing up in response to his touch. "But I'm hoping he'll sleep well tonight."

She didn't fail to catch the unspoken hint behind his words, and it made her smile.

They fed him early, bathing him and putting him in a clean set of pajamas. Carlisle and Esme had created a nursery on the second floor, and it was filled with toys they had given him for Christmas. The three of them sat on the soft carpet, building towers with large plastic bricks. Bella and Edward raced to see who could build the tallest, and when they fell down Matty clapped with pleasure. By seven p.m. he was all but keeling over, his eyelids heavy with the sleep he was trying to fight.

Bella read The Grinch, making Matty laugh with her silly voices and funny expressions. When she reached the final lines, Edward joined in, his timbre deep and playful, and she wanted to run into his arms and kiss the hell out of him.

"He's almost asleep," she whispered when they'd both kissed their son. Matty was curled up into his usual ball, his thumb firmly latched between his lips. "He looks so peaceful when he's dozing."

"He's perfect." Edward agreed. "We should definitely make some more of those."

Her heart beat faster. They'd talked about the future at couples' therapy; discussed trying for more children at some point. Knowing she was already thirty, and Edward thirty-three, made her feel a little more concerned. If they wanted a big family—and they both agreed they did—eventually they'd need to make some decisions.

"We definitely should."

He pulled her back against him, until her spine was moulded into his chest. Curling his arms around her waist he dipped his head until his lips brushed against her neck, sucking gently against her skin.

"How about we practice tonight?"

"Mmmm," Bella agreed, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as he continued to caress her. "We've been practicing a lot haven't we?"

"You think we're ready for the match?" She could feel him smile against her neck.

"I'm ready."

"I want to make you a permanent signing to my team first." Edward loosened his hold on her waist, spinning her around to face him. He reached out and cupped her jaw, his fingers touching the soft skin behind her ear. "After that we can talk about adding to the offense."

Bella laughed. "You're confusing me with all these analogies here. Are we talking about our family or a football team?"

Edward inclined his head toward hers, capturing her lips between his own. Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her closer, his tongue snaking a hot trail of fire across her mouth.

"I'm not talking about football, Bella," he murmured, moving a hand down to cup her behind, his fingers digging into her sin. "I'm talking about us."

"Us?" She ran her lips along the stubbled line of his jaw, capturing his earlobe between her teeth, sucking it enough to make him moan.

"I want you to marry me." He could hardly get the words out between his sighs. She started to grind herself against him. "I want you to be Mrs Edward Cullen, and for Matty to have a whole team of brothers and sisters."

It was Bella's turn to smile, and she pulled back to catch his eye. "You forgot the getting on one knee bit. Not to mention the ring."

"I have a ring." Edward's protest was fast. "I was saving it for the right moment."

She glanced around Matty's nursery, noticing he was fast asleep. He was oblivious to the changes taking place between his parents. "Is this the right moment?"

Edward laughed. "I was going to ask you underneath the Christmas tree in the hall, at the stroke of midnight. But somehow this seems to be the perfect time and place; just us, and our boy."

"It does," she agreed, feeling like a flash of lightning exploded inside her body. To know he wanted her, not only as the mother of his child, but as his wife, made her want to fling open the windows and shout it out for everybody to hear. In their years of separation she had never thought it could be as good as this. Everything she'd dreamed of was finally within her grasp. It was almost too much to take in.

"So will you?" His voice was more urgent now, causing her to look at him in confusion.

"What?"

He was getting agitated, and she reached out a hand to calm him. Before she could touch his face, he'd dropped onto one knee, grasping her left hand between his fingers.

"Isabella Swan, you are the love of my life. You've given me the most beautiful child who is the center of my universe. I'd be the luckiest guy in the world if you'd give me yourself."

Bella dropped to her knees, grasping his face between her hands, kissing him over and again until they were both laughing. "Yes, yes, of course I will. I thought you knew that already."

His face turned serious again as he took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingering on her palm. "I wanted to make sure. But thank you for saying yes."

"Thank you for asking," her eyes twinkled as she leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "I thought you never would."

. . .

Jasper and Alice arrived at 8 p.m., their faces bright and happy as Bella and Edward shared their news. An hour later, the party was in full swing, and Bella was chatting to virtual strangers, accepting their congratulations and discussing everything from the state of the economy to how wonderful the London Olympics had been. Though she'd watched it from two thousand miles away, over a flat screen, she'd still felt proud to be British.

She was getting another glass of champagne when Alice ran over, her dark hair flying as she called Bella's name.

"I feel like we haven't had a chance to talk all night. Let's go hide away and talk about boys."

Bella laughed, grabbing a second glass for Alice. "It feels weird when those boys are Edward and Jasper. I'm pretty sure you don't want to hear any gory details about your brother, and I sure as hell don't want to hear them about Jasper."

Alice grinned. "Not even the way he uses his—" Bella clamped a hand across Alice's mouth, shouting at her to be quiet. Alice giggled before nipping at her palm. "Seriously, Bella, I want you to know how excited I am about your engagement."

"Me too," Bella couldn't resist glancing at her ring. It was a large, pear-cut solitaire, set on a platinum band. She was so happy Edward had chosen such an elegantly simple design. It proved how well he knew her. "I can't wait to be your sister."

"Oh my god, it's going to be so great. Especially now I have my own place in New York and won't have to be around you newlyweds. You were gross enough when you were dating."

Bella blushed as she remembered the number of times Alice would walk into the apartment to find her and Edward kissing, their hands hastily snatched back from whatever part of each other's bodies they were exploring. It only took Alice a month of living with them to decide she needed to get her own apartment while studying at Columbia. Carlisle had helped fund the investment.

"You and Jasper aren't much better." Bella pointed out.

Since the two of them had gotten together in April, Alice and Jasper had been inseparable. He had moved to New York, staying in Alice's apartment while he decided what to do with the band. Edward hadn't liked the new development one bit.

"When are you two going to do the deed anyway?"

Bella wrinkled her nose. "I don't want a big wedding. I'm hoping he'll whisk me off to Vegas and we can get married in front of a really bad Elvis impersonator."

Alice laughed. "I don't think that's really Edward's style do you?"

"Regretfully not." Bella tried to think what his style would be. She couldn't face a big wedding—not after everything they'd been through. She wanted to commit herself to him in front of their closest family. Anything else would be superfluous.

"Whatever happens, I know you two are perfect for each other," Alice said, her champagne glass clinking against Bella's. "I've known it for years. It's a shame it took you two so long to work it out."

"Tell me about it." Bella smiled wryly. A moment later her heart leapt as she felt two strong arms encircle her waist.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Edward asked, brushing Bella's cheek with his lips. "I want to dance with the future Mrs Cullen."

Bella blushed at his words. There was something about the way he claimed her which made her feel hot inside. He held her close as he moved her around the room, his hand cupping the swell of her bottom as it dipped beneath her dress. His other hand held hers, his strong palm encompassing her own, and she felt delicate beneath his dominant form.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said, nodding at a man in the corner. "In fact you look damn sexy in this dress."

"Thank you." Her smile was coy. She wanted to flirt with this man, show him exactly what he was letting himself in for. "You look rather gorgeous yourself, Mr Cullen."

She moved her hand beneath his jacket, placing her palm against his back. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, her fingers caressing him as they danced.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" His voice was rough as she continued to move her hand. She could feel him start to harden against her.

"Why would you say that? I'm practically a married woman." Her eyes sparkled.

"I'd hate to upset your 'almost' husband." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. "But I really want to see what you're wearing under this dress."

"What makes you think I'm wearing anything?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

He swallowed hard. "I think I'm ready to leave."

"We're sleeping here. We can't leave the party before midnight." Bella laughed.

"Watch us."

He stopped dancing when they were near the staircase, his hand still firmly holding hers. As he practically dragged her up the stairs, she found herself giggling, having to stop every few seconds to catch her breath.

"Come on, we've got a lot of practicing to do," Edward urged, pulling at her hand. When they reached the top of the staircase, he bent down, scooping her up into his arms and stalking to their bedroom.

"I'm pretty sure the whole carrying over the threshold thing isn't meant to happen until after the wedding." Bella pointed out, hiccupping in a fit of giggles.

"This isn't a threshold carry. This is an 'I want to get you into bed as quickly as possible' carry," he growled, pushing their door open and throwing her on top of the covers.

"I thought it was an 'I can't wait to see what's under your dress' carry," Bella replied, reaching up to grab his hand and pull him on top of her. His solid body knocked the wind out of her, making her breathless.

"I _can't _wait to see what's under your dress," he admitted, his hand snaking up her leg. He shrugged his jacket off and unknotted his tie before pulling her sparkling silver sandals off, throwing them to the floor.

"There's really nothing to see." She knelt up, helping him to unfasten the buttons on his shirt. "I'd hate to disappoint you."

"If there's nothing under that dress, I can promise you I won't be disappointed." He pulled his shirt off, revealing his firm chest. Bella reached out to touch it, tracing her fingers over the ridges of his muscles. Her hand moved down, unfastening his belt and pushing his pants over his hips, and as he stood to push them farther, Bella could see his black boxers tenting under the pressure of his hardness.

"I can see you're ready for some practice," she murmured, running a finger over his tip. She felt him twitch.

Edward leaned forward and kissed her, his tongue brushing against hers as they opened their mouths, her hands roaming across his naked torso. She felt him pull the zipper of her dress down, easing the fabric from her shoulders until it pooled around her waist, leaving her breasts exposed.

He dipped his head to capture a nipple between his lips. Sucking it into his warm, wet mouth, he dragged his tongue against her until her vision turned to stars. His hand reached out to caress her other breast, his thumb peaking her nipple and making her back arch.

"Does it feel like I need to practice?" He murmured against her breast. She shook her head madly though she knew he couldn't see.

He pulled her dress off the rest of the way, throwing it to the join their clothes in a heap on the floor.

She lay naked on the bed, looking up at his dark, desirous eyes, her body clenching at the strength of his need. He ran his fingers up her legs, pausing at her inner thighs to tease, his thumbs digging in to the soft skin.

"You are so sexy. Every time I saw you tonight I wanted to drag you to bed." He moved until his head was between her legs, his lips and tongue caressing her inner thighs. She reached down to run her fingers through his soft hair, her hands encouraging his lips to where she needed them the most.

"Edward, please." She opened her legs wider. He smiled against her thigh as he saw her desperation.

"Please what?" He kissed a line up her thigh, stopping at the apex, his breath heated against her core.

"Kiss me."

"Where?" She could hear the laugher in his voice. She was torn between hitting him and pushing his face closer.

"There."

She ran a finger down her damp flesh. Edward captured it with his hand, pulling it away until she was a ball of frustration.

"This is mine." He kissed her _right_ _there_, and her legs bucked, her eyes squeezing shut at the intensity of the pleasure.

"I know," she breathed, submitting herself to his touch; to his tongue and his lips and the way he liked to adore her. "All of it, all of me. It's yours."

. . .

Afterward he held her tight, his naked body spooning hers. His erection was only half gone as he rocked rhythmically against her ass. He curled one arm around her waist, the other across her chest, his hand caressing her breast as they tried to capture their breath.

"I'm pretty sure we're as practiced as we're going to get." Bella smiled as she leaned her head back against his chest.

"They say practice makes perfect," he agreed, his face buried in her hair. He moved his leg between her own, the hard warmth of his thigh a welcome distraction.

"We definitely make perfect babies." She could feel the heaviness of sleep starting to weight down upon her. But she wasn't ready for this day to end.

"That we do."

Bella reached her arm back to curl her fingers into his hair, making her breasts push harder against his palm. "Thank you for making this a perfect holiday. I've loved every minute of it."

"So have I. I don't want to go back."

She was glad he felt the same way, and their time in London meant as much to him as it did to her. It wasn't only the chance to reconnect with his family, although that had been wonderful, it was the fact they had spent their first holiday season together with their son, knowing there were so many more to come.

"We can come back to visit soon," she suggested. "Maybe at Easter."

"I'd like us to buy a place over here. I've got a plan." His voice was full of smiles. She twisted her head to look at him.

"You're full of surprises tonight, Mr Cullen. Care to share your plan with your future wife?"

He moved his hand to her hip, pulling her ass against his hardness, grinding himself against her. "I'm looking into taking Black Enterprises public. I'm hoping within five years I'll be able to retire from the company."

Bella turned until she was facing him, reaching her hand out to cup his jaw. "You really want to leave Black Enterprises?"

Edward smiled, his jaw moving beneath her hand. "When the time is right, I definitely want to leave. I think it will take a few years to work out the IPO and get the right team in place."

"What are you going to do after that? You're a little too young to spend your life on the golf course."

"I want to do more charity work, maybe expand the Black Foundation to include overseas aid. I thought it might be something we could do together."

She could feel her eyes start to water. "It sounds amazing. I can't think of anything I'd rather do than work with you."

"In between making babies, of course," he said playfully as he winked at her.

"And the practicing," she reminded him.

He pulled her against him until their bodies were aligned, his erection hard against her thigh. His mouth brushed against her neck, as his hand squeezed her ass, making her gasp out loud.

"Ah yes, the practicing," he agreed, rolling his hips until his tip was nudging her entrance. "I'd never forget about the practicing."

"That's good," she murmured as he pushed inside her, her intake of breath sharp as he filled her completely.

"It is," he agreed, kissing her again. "It's very good."

* * *

**A/N This is the final chapter of the story, but I will be adding a future-take epilogue during the next week or so. **

**I want to thank each and every one of you for reading this story, and for joining me on this very bumpy ride. I've loved every review you've sent, and discussing theories with you via PM and on Facebook and Twitter. I'm going to miss that so much.  
**

**Fran, Kate and Mere were with me from the very start of this journey, and I can't thank them enough for all their encouragement and help. Without them, this story wouldn't have made it. And to all those that recc'ed and supported me (and you know who you are), thank you from the bottom of my heart. There are too many of you to list, but I'll definitely be thanking you in review replies!**

**Finally, I WILL be writing more fanfic. I have a 3 part story already written that I plan to post in the next few weeks, and a couple of longer (full length) fics that I have started to write. If you fancy taking a look at them, please put me on author alert, or friend me on Facebook or twitter (links are on my profile). **

**Until the epilogue, THANK YOU. Choc xxx**


	42. Epilogue

**Fix You - Epilogue**

**August 27****th**** 2021**

"MOM!" A scream came from the wooded area to the left of the stage. Bella whipped her head round and searched for the source of the cry. She saw Lily run out from the shade of the trees, her seven year old face screwed up in righteous indignation. "Matty says girls can't climb trees."

Bella watched as Lily stalked up to her, hands on hips, her hair looking like she'd been dragged backward through a hedge. Her clothes were covered with the dusty-red evidence of the ground.

"Did he now?" Bella's voice was low, but she could see Matt lingering in the shadows. Like Bella, he would be chewing his lip, afraid of the consequences of his actions.

"Yes." Lily was trying to hold back her tears. Bella could tell they came from anger, rather than sadness, and it warmed her. "And everybody knows I can climb higher than any of them." Lily waved her hand dismissively, referring to Matty, and her cousin Emmett Jr.

"Try to ignore them, sweetheart." Bella pulled Lily toward her, wrapping her arms around Lily's scant frame. "They're jealous, and maybe a little worried for your safety."

"I wasn't climbing that high, Momma," Lily scoffed. "I wanted to check inside the bird's nest."

Bella squeezed her eyes shut; trying not to think of the danger her daughter was placing herself in. She wanted her children to grow up with a healthy dose of the great outdoors, the feeling the world was theirs to explore. But it was so hard to create boundaries, and to stop them from pushing things too far.

Lily hugged her mom back before pulling away and running back into the woods where, no doubt, she would hound her cousins until they admitted she was the best climber. Bella watched as Matty sidled toward her, his face pulled back into a scowl as he approached.

"Have you heard from Dad?" He glanced down, but Bella could tell he was chewing his lip again.

"Not yet, sweetheart." She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Matty was the most sensitive of her children, and the one who was closest to Edward. They were the two boys among a sea of girls, and they clung to each other. When Edward was away, Matty was like a lost soul, counting the hours until his dad returned.

"Will he get here in time?" Matty looked up at her, and she could see the trepidation in his eyes. Her heart clenched for him.

"Sweetheart, if your dad says he'll be somewhere, he'll be there. Unless there's a major catastrophe or something is physically stopping him, he never breaks a promise."

He looked up at her, his ten year old face shining with hope. "I really want him to be here."

Bella pulled him close. "I know you do, darling. And he wants to be here too, he couldn't talk of anything else when he called yesterday." She gave him a small smile. "But regardless, you really need to stop teasing your sister. You drive her crazy."

"She drives _me_ crazy," he complained. "She's always tagging after me and EJ." Emmett Junior and Matty were as thick as thieves, despite there being two years between the cousins. It warmed her heart to see her children surrounded by family, like fish swimming in a sea of love.

"I need you to be my big man today, Matt." She knew he hated his nickname, although he'd always be Matty to her. "Without Daddy here, I need all the help I can muster, to get this show on the road."

She looked around the camp, amazed at how much they'd achieved over the years. From an idea in Edward's head, the William Black Memorial Summer Camp had grown not only to encompass those children affected by 9:11, but now reached out to neglected and poverty-stricken children throughout the US. Bella had been working all week with the 150 children to put on a show, and the performance was due to start in less than three hours.

The field was already full of spectators, sitting on blankets and picnicking, waiting for the show to begin.

"I'll help, Momma." Matty buried his head in her shoulder, and she was reminded of how much he'd grown recently. Like his father, he was tall, looking much older than his ten years.

"Thank you," she whispered in his hair.

"Do you really think Dad will be back in time to hear me play?" he asked. Edward had been away for two weeks, working with the Black Foundation to provide aid to poverty-stricken children in West Africa. He had planned to arrive home the previous day, but emergency talks with the local chiefs had delayed his departure.

"He'll be here." Bella didn't need to think twice. In the past eight years of their marriage, he hadn't let her down once. He sure as hell wouldn't let down his own children.

"Okay then." Matty was slightly mollified. She watched him lope over to the stage area where Jasper was working with a group of roadies, trying to set up the PA system to his own, exacting standards. Jasper leaned down and whispered something in Matty's ear, and Bella put her hand to her chest, watching as the two of them started to plug in leads, Jasper showing his godson where each one should go.

"It all looks like it's coming together." A warm voice to her left made Bella whip around. Esme was standing right behind her, holding a sleeping Molly in her arms. Molly's thumb was stuck in her mouth as she sucked it voraciously. Bella reached out to touch her soft, downy hair. At two, she was the baby of the family, and doted on by all of them.

"I'll be glad when it begins," Bella admitted. "The kids are all so jittery."

"It means a lot to them, having people come and listen. Most of them have never had the chance to perform before."

Bella nodded, trying to swallow her tears as she thought about how neglected some of these children were. One week out of 52 wasn't enough to make a difference, and it made her angry. She glanced across to the lake, where Mike Newton, the camp director, had organized a series of games for the afternoon, to take the kids' minds off the impending performance.

"You and Edward have done wonderful things since you ramped up the Black Foundation." Esme reached out her spare hand and rubbed Bella's arm. "I'm so proud of you both."

"Thank you." Bella felt herself choke. "We couldn't have done it without you."

It was true. Esme had worked as hard as the rest of them to raise funds; organizing galas and charity dinners in New York. All things Bella naturally shied away from.

"I'll put Molly down for her nap." Esme pointed toward the hut which served as an office, where Bella had erected a travel cot at the start of the summer. Bella nodded and mouthed a 'thank you' as Esme walked toward it.

Esme and Carlisle had moved back to the States a few years before. They'd proved to be such a support for Edward and Bella as well as their little family. Emmett and Rose had settled down in Connecticut, and though Jasper was still touring a lot, he and Alice had made their base in New York.

The city Bella had grown up hating had suddenly felt like home.

She still loved London of course, and they took the children there often, staying in the beautiful house they'd bought in Putney. But she no longer felt the yearning, the desperation to get away from New York. Even though they lived in Connecticut now, she often travelled into Manhattan for meetings or to do some shopping.

"Mom, Mom, look who's here!" Lily came running out of the trees again, pointing her finger in the direction of the car park. "It's Uncle Shake!"

"Lily Cullen!" Bella scolded. "I've told you not to call him that."

It was natural with his strange ticks, and inability to keep his hands still, the children would go for the obvious nickname for Jake Black. It didn't make Bella happy about it, though.

"He said he likes it," Lily retorted, her red hair flying everywhere as she changed direction and ran toward her uncle, throwing herself into his unsteady arms.

Jake put his arm around Lily and they walked toward Bella, a grin splitting his face as she threw her arms around them both.

"We missed you." Since they bought their house in Connecticut in 2013, Jake had been a regular visitor, staying for months at a time, living in the annex so he could have some privacy. She'd grown used to having him around, and when he went away—which he did at least four or five times a year—she hated to see the empty cottage where he used to be. He was still a wanderer at heart, and she suspected that the spectre of his addictions hadn't quite been conquered. But he was still a dear part of their family, and loved by them all.

"I missed you too, Bells." He squeezed her waist. "Any news from Edward?"

"He should be here soon," she replied. "His plane was due to land by three. Matty's beside himself with worry."

"Is he ready for his big day?" Jake asked, his eyebrows knitting into a frown. Matty had been playing the drums since he was six years old, and Jasper had offered for him to be the drummer for Fatal Limits' opening number. His nerves had been growing by the day.

"He's scared to bits," Bella confessed. "If Edward isn't here soon, I don't know what he'll do."

"I'll go talk to him." Jake was already walking across the grass, his right leg dragging as he strode. He cut a strange figure; looking like a young boy even though he was nearly forty. She was thankful he was here, along with Jasper, to lend Matty some support.

Checking her watch, she decided to join them at the stage. She was ready to start the sound check, needing to know everything was going to plan. Backstage was a hive of activity, as everybody tried to ensure that all the last minute preparations were complete. From the electricity, to the sound, to the lighting; everything had been planned to go off without a hitch.

"Bella," Jasper whispered, wrapping his hand around her upper arm. "Can we have a quick chat?"

She looked down at her clothes. She had about half an hour to get showered and changed into the dress she had hanging up in the office. The ratty cut-off shorts and band t-shirt she was wearing really weren't suitable for greeting donors.

"Sure." She allowed herself to be dragged to the side of the stage.

"Matty's refusing to play. He's suffering from a severe case of stage fright." Jasper's face was sympathetic.

Bella felt her heart clench. She knew how important today was for her boy, how excited he'd been to play alongside his hero. To know the jitters were stopping him from fulfilling his dream broke her heart.

"I'll speak with him."

Jasper brushed his hand across her cheek. They both shared the privilege of being married to Cullens, and their familiar friendship had been maintained over the years. He and Alice were named in her will as guardians for her children, should something happen to Edward and her.

Bella found Matty sitting underneath a maple tree, his arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked in time to a silent beat. She guessed he was hearing music in his head; he was constantly singing, or tapping out rhythms. Even at the age of ten, music was his life.

He was like his mom in that respect.

She flopped down beside him, mirroring his posture. He glanced at her, his eyes bright with tears.

"Hey baby." She nudged her elbow against him. She didn't want to ask him what was wrong. She knew from experience it was best to let him volunteer.

Matty grunted, and dipped his head between his knees. His rocking continued, and she reached out a hand and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, wriggling her bottom until they were closer.

They sat silently, and she closed her eyes, wishing she could absorb all his fears and take them away from him. She hated this part of being a parent; watching her child go through pain and fear and not being able to make it disappear.

"I don't want to play." His voice was low when he finally spoke.

"You don't?" She asked.

"I'm scared." He said it like he'd committed a crime.

"What are you scared of sweetheart?"

Matty played with a lock of her hair. He rubbed it between his fingers, letting it drop back to her shoulder.

"I'm scared I'll look stupid. What if I can't match the beat to the song? What if everybody laughs at me and thinks I'm a douche?"

Bella realized now wasn't the time to reprimand him for his language.

"You've practiced that song until it's almost second nature," she reminded him. "I don't think you'll forget the beat."

Matty huffed. "I don't want to let you or Dad down."

She closed her eyes, lowering her head until her face was buried in his hair. She inhaled deeply. He still smelled soft and sweet, like her little boy.

"Matthew, I can promise you won't let us down. I'm so proud you're even going to try sitting up there on the stage. Even if you dropped every beat, I'd still be the one at the front with a huge grin across my face." She tipped his face up until he was looking at her. "You're my son. I'm so proud of everything you do. I can promise you won't let us down."

A lock of bronze hair fell over his forehead, and Bella had to restrain herself from pushing it away from his face.

"Do you think Dad will really get here in time?" His lip wobbled.

"I really do." She squeezed his shoulder, understanding what his fear really was. Not that he might mess up, but that Edward wouldn't get there in time to see him. "If he was running late, he'd get a message to us somehow."

The smallest hint of a smile played on Matty's lips. "Okay. I'll do it." He pushed himself up, kicking at the dust as he walked away. She watched him go, wishing he didn't have to grow up so quickly.

The final minutes passed quickly. She helped the roadies get the instruments ready and supervised the grips as they finished setting up the electrical equipment. As she was finally ready to go and get herself ready for the evening ahead, she noticed a plug hanging loose halfway up the screen.

Bella looked around, trying to see if there were any electricians still around, but they'd all left to get a drink. She knew if she waited for them to come back it would be too late. She grabbed the worn metal step-ladder and climbed it, reaching up to reconnect the hanging plugs.

"Christ, you look sexy in those shorts."

Bella looked down to see Edward standing at the bottom of the steps. He was wearing a crisp white shirt tucked into navy pants, his eyes shielded by dark Ray-Bans. His smooth attire made her feel like a mess.

"Edward!" She scrambled down the steps, jumping off the final few into his open arms. He held her under her butt, his hands digging into the cut-off denim as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He turned and pushed her back against the screen, his hips digging into her thighs as he moved his mouth to hers.

"I missed you, baby." His breath was warm against her skin.

Bella moved her lips along with his, feeling his tongue push inside her mouth. He brushed it against her own, the softness contrasting with the hard grasp of his hands. She gasped at the way he made her respond.

"I missed you too," she breathed when he pulled away. "So much."

He released her, letting her feet fall back onto the ground.

"How was Namibia?" she asked

"We managed to get the agreement to build the school," he replied. His expression told her how relieved he was. "They should break ground next week."

"That's amazing." She stepped forward and kissed him hard. "I can't believe you talked them round."

He ran a hand through his hair. "It took a lot of negotiation. It was good to have Dad there with me; they seemed to think his white hair meant he was in charge."

Bella didn't want to let Edward go. He'd been away for two weeks, and she'd missed having him in her bed, and in her arms. But she knew their children were as desperate to see him as she was.

"Have you spoken with Matty yet? He was so afraid you might not make it in time."

"Yes, I saw him with Jasper. He seemed cool as a cucumber."

It made Bella smile. Matty was so desperate to please his father that he tried to show no weakness. Luckily she was there to put Edward right.

"He was having a major attack of stage fright, but I think he'll be okay now."

"And how are my girls?" He slung his arm around Bella's shoulders. She leaned into his touch.

"Lily is with Emmett and his boys, railing at the injustices of the world, and Molly is having a nap." Bella checked her watch. "Speaking of which, it's time to wake her up and for me to change into something more appropriate."

Edward scanned her body with hungry eyes. "What's wrong with what you're wearing?"

She laughed. "A threadbare t-shirt and shorts showing half my ass probably won't go down too well with some of our donors." They were nearly at the collection of huts forming the administrative center.

"Fuck the donors," Edward whispered in her ear. His hand dropped down to cup her behind, his fingers pushing beneath the denim and caressing her bare skin.

Before they walked into the office where Esme was sitting, patiently watching over her granddaughter, Bella took the opportunity to kiss the hell out of her husband.

He kissed her right back.

. . .

When she was dressed, Bella carried Molly out into the field. Her little two-year-old was alert and content, her red ringlets bouncing against her soft cheeks as they walked. Bella loved these moments with her youngest. She'd been a much-anticipated baby; born after two miscarriages and a labor which seemed to last forever. After the roller coaster of emotions they'd put the whole family through, Bella and Edward had agreed she would be their final baby.

That didn't stop her from longing for more.

She found Lily and Edward standing with a group of donors. They were all staring with rapt expressions as her seven-year-old extolled the virtues of the school the Black Foundation was building in Namibia. Bella wondered how long it would be before Lily demanded to go and see the building for herself.

Carlisle and Esme were sitting on some garden chairs, and Rose had laid out a blanket next to them. She was feeding her brood with sandwiches, though Emmett seemed to eat more than the rest of the family combined.

Alice was behind the stage, watching Jasper and the band as they kidded around with Matty, trying to make him forget his nerves. Bella walked over to greet her, and Molly reached out for her aunt, who swung her into her arms, blowing raspberries on her chubby face.

"Hey Molly-Moo. Did you have a good nap?" Alice glanced up at Bella. "Christ she looks more like Edward every day."

"Lucky girl," Bella murmured. "And how are you feeling?"

Alice had entered her second trimester, though her stomach still hid the evidence of her pregnancy. She hitched Molly onto her hip and smiled, as her other hand reached out to rub her belly.

"So much better. Jasper says he's glad I can stay awake after 6 p.m. He was beginning to think I had some sort of sleeping disease."

Bella reached out and stroked Alice's arm. She still felt maternal toward her, despite Alice being nearly thirty. She'd always be her little sister, the girl who was afraid of going to school. She'd been so excited when Alice and Jasper had finally decided to try for a baby, and slightly amused when Alice fell pregnant in the first month. Jasper was already driving all of them crazy with discussions of names, and whether a crib or a Moses basket would be a better option.

"Make sure you still get lots of rest. Think of it as saving for the future," Bella said wryly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd managed to have an unbroken night. If it wasn't Molly waking up crying, it was Lily having nightmares or Matty unable to sleep. Not that she regretted a single moment of it, but she couldn't help but daydream of a freshly made bed and eight uninterrupted hours.

"I will." Alice grinned, passing a struggling Molly back to Bella. "It looks like the boys are ready to go." She gestured over at the band, who were in a huddle, arms around each other. Matty looked incongruous within their circle, his tiny body held by their big, brawny ones.

"Edward's saved us a spot at the front." Bella and Alice walked around the stage, pushing through the crowds of people gathered for the concert. Edward and Lily were standing with Emmett, while the rest of the Cullen clan had decamped to the bleachers. His eyes lit up when he saw Bella, and he reached a hand out, pulling her and Molly into his arms.

"What song are they starting with?" He had to speak loudly to be heard over the hum of the crowd.

"He didn't say," Bella replied. "He's keeping it a secret."

Edward leaned over to whisper something to Alice, brushing his lips against her cheek. Her face lit up, reminding Bella how the whole family adored her husband. Before she could say anything else, Fatal Limits walked onto the stage, Jasper leading them out, and slapping Matty on the back as he climbed up into the drummer's seat. She watched as he twirled his drumsticks, throwing them in the air and catching them, causing Molly to squeal with delight as she watched her brother horsing about.

Jasper walked up to the microphone. "Hi y'all." The crowd cheered wildly. "I'd like to thank everybody for coming tonight to see these talented kids put on a fantastic show." He paused while the applause continued. "We're going to start the evening off with a couple of songs. We haven't played together for a while, so forgive us if we miss a few notes."

Bella smiled at this. They'd split up over eight years ago, but had agreed to come together to play this charity event. Just one more thing to be grateful to Jasper for.

"And for our first song, I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Matt Cullen, our drummer, and my favorite godson." He winked at Matty who smiled back shyly. Bella and Edward clapped loudly, causing Molly to put her hands over her ears.

"Can you beat us in Matt?" He called out. Matty lifted his drumsticks, his face frozen in concentration as he silently counted his beat. He started a slow rhythm, his sticks cueing in Riley on guitar, and everybody started to scream as they realized the song they were starting with.

Bella felt tears come to her eyes as she watched her son play in time to the song Jasper had written for him. 'Dear Matty' had been a number one hit the year after Matty was born, long before she had told Edward about his son. It was bittersweet to watch their son accompany Jasper's band as they played it.

She couldn't take her eyes off him, and felt Edward squeeze her hand, before lifting Molly from her arms. Salt stung at her eyes as the sense of pride overwhelmed her. Matty looked like a professional, never missing a beat, always leading the song. She bit her lip in an attempt to stem the flow of tears.

"He's fantastic." Edward whispered in her ear, and she could only nod. Her ability to speak seemed to have been swallowed up by the emotions sparking through her body. To be standing there with Edward and their girls, as they watched their son in his first performance seemed absolutely perfect. She couldn't have asked for anything more.

. . .

The concert lasted two hours, and Bella found herself crying more than once as she watched all the campers put their hearts and souls into their performances. Many of them came from deprived backgrounds and had never been to a theatre or to see a concert, yet they came across as consummate professionals. Even those with stage fright managed to swallow it down and take fearful steps across the stage.

By the time it was over and all the donors had been thanked, Molly had fallen asleep in Edward's arms. Her tiny head lolled against his shoulders as they walked toward the camp, her mouth moving softly as she breathed. It hurt Bella's heart to see her husband holding their last baby, made her want to make more with him. He was such an amazing father to them all.

"Mom said she'd have the children tonight," Edward whispered. "She thinks you deserve a break."

Bella looked at him quizzically. "Are you planning something?"

"Only a bit of quality time with my wife." He winked, walking into the large family cabin they'd built a few summers ago. "Maybe you can put those shorts back on."

She laughed. "They're the most horrific things I've ever worn. I think I cut them down myself a few years ago."

"They're the sexiest thing you've ever worn." He put Molly down in her cot, lifting the blanket over her sleeping body. "I can't stop thinking about the way you looked in them."

"My ass was half hanging out."

"My point exactly." He pulled her toward him and brushed his lips across her forehead. "It's how I like you best, all dressed down, with a band tee on. Your hair flying in the wind as you watch the music play. It reminds me of when I first met you."

His fingers lingered on her bare arms. Her body tingled to his touch.

"Maybe you should always wear a tuxedo. That's how I remember you."

"I imagine the hotel staff may think we're crazy." He pushed his fingers into her hair. "You in cut-offs and me in a dinner suit. I'll look like your sugar daddy."

Bella grinned. "It sounds delicious. You pay for dinner and I'll pay you in kind." She stood on her tiptoes to push her lips onto his. She could feel him harden against her stomach and her own body clenched with need.

"I like the way you negotiate," he murmured before kissing her hard. His tongue plunged into her mouth, lashing against her own. For long moments they continued to move against each other, their hands wandering as they reconnected. Bella felt him grab her ass to pull her against him, his hard cock pulsing against her.

"Get a room," Emmett complained as he walked into the cabin. "Jesus, anybody would think you were newlyweds."

"Give me a break; I haven't seen my wife in two weeks." Edward laughed into her hair. "And I have got a room, so thanks for the suggestion."

Emmett stopped mid-walk. "Are you guys going to a hotel?"

"Don't even think about it. I asked Mom first," Edward warned.

"It wouldn't be too hard for them to look after all the kids. Rosie and I could join you at the hotel."

Bella started to shake with laughter as she felt Edward bristle. Their romantic night was fast turning into a family reunion. She let her husband stew for a moment before stepping in.

"Emmett, if you let us go alone, I'll look after the kids for you next weekend. That way you can plan something nice for you and Rose."

Emmett looked at her, cupping his bristled chin with his hand. His eyes narrowed as he considered his options.

"You'll look after them for two nights? Friday _and_ Saturday?" he questioned.

Bella nodded. "You don't even have to hurry home on Sunday."

"It's a deal." His face split into a grin. "I can't wait to tell Rosie. I can't remember the last time we were alone."

"Nor can I," Edward replied dryly, before turning to Bella. "Shall we go say goodbye to Matt and Lily, sweetheart?"

. . .

It was gone midnight by the time they got to the hotel, and the restaurant had already closed. They ordered room service, sitting in the complimentary robes as they devoured burgers and fries, Bella's bare feet resting in Edward's lap as they talked.

"I promised the children we'd be back in time for breakfast," Edward admitted, setting an alarm on his phone. "I estimate we have six hours and twenty-seven minutes of alone time."

"I'm glad you planned it to a 't'," Bella replied. "I'd hate to miss out on those twenty-seven minutes."

"You can do a lot in twenty-seven minutes," Edward protested, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on her feet.

"_You_ can!" She laughed. He moved his hands up her legs, stopping to caress her calves, his fingers delighting in the sensation of her soft skin. He'd missed this; being alone with her, making each other laugh. Making each other do other things.

"Lily says she's sick and tired of this world being run by men. She's planning to run for president when she's eighteen." Edward looked up at Bella as he spoke. "Apparently there should be laws against boys teasing girls."

"She was fed up because Emmett Junior and Matty said she couldn't climb the tree."

Edward pulled her toward him, lifting her hips until she was straddling him. Her knees rested on either side of his thigh. "She reminds me of you. I remember how feisty you were when we first met. I got hard looking at you."

Bella leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck, wriggling on his lap. "You got hard when you pulled my ass against your cock."

"I always get hard when I pull your ass against my cock, sweetheart."

He pushed up so she could feel the evidence of his arousal between her thighs. He was enjoying this; their gentle banter, the touching and kissing. When they were apart he was constantly thinking about her. Being together gave him peace.

"Are you going to do something about it?" she asked archly, though the smirk on her face belied her amusement.

"I'm not sure. I feel like we skipped a whole stage in our relationship. Maybe we should try dry humping." He flexed his ass and brushed against her again, causing a groan to escape her lips. There was nothing between them except their underwear, their robes hanging open from frantic touching.

"You go ahead and dry hump, baby." Bella licked a trail from his ear to his neck. "It's a bit too late for me. I'm wet already."

Edward laughed. His head tipped back as she ran her lips down his neck. "I think we can work with that."

"I love the way you're so adaptable." She ground herself down on him. Edward reached out to grab her hips, steadying her against him. He wasn't joking about the dry humping. He was already reaching the edge.

"I find negotiation leads to a result which satisfies all parties." He winked before tipping her chin up, capturing her mouth with his own. Her hands pushed inside his robe, the terry-cloth falling from his shoulders until his chest was exposed. She dipped her head to lick his nipple, the sensation shooting straight to his dick.

"Can we finish the talk right here?" he asked.

"You're the one who's over forty, darling. If you think your back is up to sex on the couch, far be it from me to say no." She shrugged off her own robe, naked apart from her boy shorts. His mouth watered as he scanned her body; taking in her soft skin, full breasts and sweet, undulating hips. He didn't know what part of her to attack first.

"You had to get a dig in, didn't you?" He chose her breasts. He ran his hands over them before pushing her down to the couch, her hair cascading across the dark fabric. He rolled her until she was lying on her robe, figuring the soft cloth would be preferable to hard leather.

"You know, it's less than a year until you hit the big four-oh." He ran his lips down her throat. "You won't be able to make fun of me then."

"I'll always be able to make fun of ... oh!"

He wrapped his mouth around her nipple and sucked, effectively silencing her. She arched her back, pushing herself into him, and he placed a hand under her spine to support her.

Christ, he loved this woman. They'd known each other for more than twenty years, been married for eight, and had three beautiful children they both adored. Yet he could never get enough of her, regardless of where they were. He wanted every part of her. The feisty girl who wouldn't take shit from anybody. The loving mother who worshipped the ground their children walked on. The beautiful wife who delighted in teasing him, and always gave as good as she got.

"Next time we do this, you're going to wear those shorts," he growled, finally lashing his tongue against her.

"Yes, god yes," she agreed.

"I'll push them to one side, and plunge my fingers inside you, feeling you clench against me as I suck you hard." Christ his cock was pulsing now. He felt the urge to fuck her hard, to make her head hit the arm of the sofa every time he thrust.

"I'll cut off every pair of jeans I've got," she warned.

"You do that, sweetheart."

As he laid his body on hers, feeling their flesh coming together until they moved like one, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace engulf him. After two weeks without his family, without the woman he adored, he was finally home.

And he loved every moment of it.

* * *

**A/N - Wow, so that's it. Thanks to each and every one of you for reading. Love and hugs to Fran and Kate for betaing and pre-reading. I loved all your reviews, and I'm so grateful to you for writing them.**

**I'll be posting a new 3 part story starting next week, called Plan B. Hope to see you here then.**

**Have a fabulous weekend. Choc xx  
**


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